


Never Love An Anchor

by Cltus



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Bad Decisions, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, Canon-Typical Violence, Crime Scene Cleaners, Crime Scenes, Domestic Fluff, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Shenanigans, Eye Contact, Hannibal is Hannibal, Intimacy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Obsession, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Religion, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sassy Will Graham, Slow Burn, Someone Help Will Graham, Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, Will isn't in law enforcement, not dates but dates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 76,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26691016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cltus/pseuds/Cltus
Summary: After failing to prove himself sane to the FBI, Will decides to take the third option on his list of possible careers. Crime scene cleaning is simple enough, after some paid courses you're certified to work in the field. Will has trouble with his imagination but he manages it well enough. He's stable, he can pay his bills, and that's all he needs in his life... or an alternative universe where Will Graham decides to become a crime scene cleaner after being deemed too unstable for the FBI.His company is recently hired through the FBI to clean up Agent Crawford's crime scenes. However, Will finds more then he had initially signed up for his first job in Minnesota."On some level I think I always understood, that a ship could never really love an anchor..." - The Crane Wives
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 56
Kudos: 262





	1. Chapter 1

Working as a cleaner had its perks. Will knew how to clean every surface of his house deep, what products took out the smell in his clothes, how many people hoarded in his area, or how many people commit suicide in his state daily. Will didn’t mind the hoarding jobs or even the cockroaches that threatened to crawl into his sleeves. No, Will dreaded going to a crime scene clean up. Recently his company has been contracted by the FBI to follow Agent Crawford’s crime scenes. Will doesn’t understand why this specific company got on the FBI’s payroll. Still, it might have something to do with his boss, Barney’s, recent money increase. A friend perhaps or an investor must be within the Bureau if they allowed Barney to be an option.

“Will suit up. It’s a bio.” James quips from the front door. James has been his consistent partner since Will has joined Post-Mortem. They get along well as they don’t have anyone or anything tying them down to a set location. They were close in age, which helped immensely. The Nichols’ we’re currently at a hotel, grieving their daughter, who was placed back in bed by the killer. The crime scene was a few days old at most. It’s not active anymore, so they can finally work on it. 

“At least it’s just the bed. We’re going to have to clean the floors too in case any blood got there.” James rattled the task off. Will slowly felt a headache coming on, quickly taking Tylenol with water before starting suiting up with his partner out of their work van. The job would be simple, no roaches this time. They quickly took a bio bin and carried it upstairs, placing it at the end of the bed as they threw away pillows and bedsheets.

“Why would he place her back in bed? He killed her.” Will grumbled. James hummed as they closed the bin and moved it away from the bed.

“Maybe he was remorseful? She was the wrong victim?” James chimes. They stood on opposite sides of the bed and picked it up, slowly taking it out with them to the dumpster. They threw it in before taking some chemical sprays and paper towels with them upstairs. 

“Maybe, but she looks too much like the other missing girls.” Will began spraying down the floor, and James wiped it away. They looked at the window, and Will glared at James.

“You’re leaner than me. Go out there and see if there’s any blood out there.” Will open the window reluctantly, crouching and spraying, wiping it away and having James throw away the towels. When James steps back, Will turns to look at the scene. He closes his eyes and pendulum swings. When Will opens his eyes again to see a woman lying in bed, he exits the window. Before pouncing on her, he stands above her body, a knee in her chest as she starts choking and trying to escape. Will almost watches the light leave her eyes completely before a loud bang of the bin closing startles him out of his imagination. James looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you get lost again?” He asks. Will blinked before looking at the bare bed and cleaned the room.

“No… But we’re done, right?” James grins at him. Will helps him take the bin downstairs, and they leave it by the van before removing their suits and gear, placing it in the container. While closing the bin, James rolls it into the dumpster, and they lock it. Getting ready for disposal, James checks his phone.

“Yes, let’s get this to our guy here. Chinese tonight?” James asks. When Will makes a face, the man laughs, and they both grin slightly. They get into the car and drive with the dumpster attached to their next location. Will watches as James talks with the owner and opens the glove department to retrieve snacks. His hand passes over the gun case to grab granola before he sees James supervise the removal of the bin and bed, leaving the rented dumpster with them. When it’s over, James hops back into the driver seat. When he starts driving back to the motel is when he speaks again.

“You didn’t see anything when you went out the window, right? You had that glazed look to your eyes.” Will briefly thought back to when James had shaken him to get him out of his imagination, which caused a busted lip for the other man. Will reluctantly told him about his overactive imagination after, and they had agreed that talking or loud sounds would bring Will out easier. 

“You don’t have to tell me...” 

“No, it’ll haunt me tonight, so I best tell you now… I saw myself, the killer, killing Elise. It was rough. He wanted it done quickly, but she still would’ve suffered. He has a weird sense of empathy for the victim yet just enough detachment to kill her.” James dutifully listens to Will talk. He looks over at Will when they stop at a light.

“I think you would’ve gone crazy if the FBI didn’t deny you,” James states bluntly. The light turns green, and he continues the journey.

“You’re only looking at the aftermath of what happened. I can’t imagine how many more people you could punch if you looked at them for a living.” They both laugh together as they finally find their destination, the hotel they were given. James went into the shower first as Will ordered their Chinese food. After finishing, James was the one on the lookout for the delivery as Will showered.

Will could barely close his eyes before Elise Nichols crept into his mind. The image of her being mounted and bled caused him to open his eyes when shampoo dripped down. After a string of curse words, he finished washing quickly, getting the sting out of his eyes before he changed and waited for his food with James. When it finally got here, James tipped, and they sat at the tiny table for food. As Will dug into the lo mein, James chewed on dumplings.

“You feeling alright? I noticed you took some Tylenol before. I would urge going to the doctor before it develops any further.” Will puts another mouthful of noodles into his mouth.

“I’ll visit the doctor if anything gets worse. It’s just a headache.” James watches him for a moment before nodding.

“I’ll take your word for it.” They ate in silence before throwing it out the empty containers and heading to sleep in their respective beds. James turns the light out, and Will closes his eyes.

Will woke up, later on, to see Elise Nichols in his bed. She floated up, blood pouring out of her and all over the mattress. Will sat straight up in bed, looking over at the time. 3 am. He groaned and then felt the sweat on him. He stripped off his shirt and replaced it with an extra, putting a hotel towel on the bed and lying down, covering himself with another towel and desperately going back to sleep.

They flew back home shortly after they woke up. James and Will got the day off, considering Agent Crawford wasn’t going to another crime scene. James went back home to his martinis while Will went home to his haven. Will was able to see his dogs again and start training them to accept a new pack member. He picked up a new stray, Winston, on the way back home to which he was breaking into the pack now—sitting on the porch with a beer and a dog in a kennel next to him as the other dogs looked. His phone chirped again, which he reluctantly picked up.

“Hey, Will!” Barney’s obnoxious voice sang through the speaker. Will cringed.

“Hello, Barney. It’s quite late to call.” 

“I let James know already, but there’s another crime scene in Minnesota. Crawfords team is staying there, so you’re going back out there tomorrow at 9 am. You’ll be in Minnesota by 1 pm.” Barney told him, and Will fought the urge to groan.

“Alright. I’ll be there. Bye.” When he got the reply, he hung up, looking at the time. He could get a few hours of sleep before going to the airport. 

...

The plane ride had taken almost 4 hours to get them there. They didn’t have a job after finding out the conditions, so they expected themselves to be free for the next couple of days before they had work. 

A knock on the door sounded their awakening. James got up first to greet the uninvited guest while Will was trying to fall asleep again.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I work as a profiler on the team you’re currently following. I was wondering if you would like some breakfast. I know your job is quite strenuous; the team appreciates you.” An accented voice filled the room. Will turned his head to avoid the stranger. 

“James Ham, Will Graham is the one still sleeping. Thank you, Dr. Lecter, please come in.” Will slowly sat up to look at the Doctor, scowling before moving out of bed and into the bathroom, grabbing an extra pair of clothes to change. After taking a quick shower and drying off his hair, he dresses in his black cargo pants, white company t-shirt, and black boots. He exits the bathroom. James heads in after while Will sits down at the table, brushing his hair as Hannibal hands him an unopened container. He gives the nod before placing the brush down and taking a fork to start eating some of the protein scrambles. He hums in appreciation, giving a glance to Hannibal, who brims with delight.

“I didn’t know what I was expecting, but this is good,” Will says in between a bite. Hannibal gives a smile, eating his portion.

“I’m cautious about what I put into my body. I’m curious; however, I believe you cleaned the Nichols’ home but not the other Minnesota Shrike crime scene.” The reaction is instant, Will’s fork slammed on the table, and he gives Hannibal a stern look.

“It wasn’t the Minnesota Shrike.” Will hissed. Hannibal blinks in surprise.

“It wasn’t?” 

“No, the shrike loves his girls. He tucked Elise into bed when he couldn’t honor her. That.” Will digests his next words carefully. He turns his glare to the plate.

“...that copycat sees his victim only as a pig. No better than livestock who slighted him.” They take a brief moment of silence; the sound of running water signifies that James is still in the shower. Hannibal makes the first move, bowing his head.

“I apologize for the assumption. It seemed like it was the same. Don’t you clean outside too?” Hannibal brought them back to the beginning question. Will shakes his head while picking up his fork again.

“If it doesn't get on a hard surface, we can’t clean it. Another company went because we don’t handle outside clean up like that.” Will gives, the other man seems satisfied with his answer. The shower shut off, and the silence returned.

“How did you come up with a conclusion it was a copycat?”

“Let’s keep this professional.” Will interrupted. Hannibal bristled slightly, a curious expression on his face. He brings a cup of coffee to his lips to drink it. Will mirrors him by taking another bite.

“Or we can socialize like adults… god forbid we become friendly.” Will swallows his forkful, giving him a slight glare.

“I don’t find you that interesting.” Hannibal places the cup down.

“You will.” James comes out of the bathroom then, matching Will’s outfit. He dries off his hair before combing it briefly.

“I hope Mongoose isn’t giving you any trouble. I’m going to talk to the manager to see how long our stay is.” Hannibal smiles at James, and the latter leaves the two of them with the sound of a closing door.

“Mongoose?”

“It’s a nickname James refuses to retire. I caught a snake on a job site before it could bite him. So, mongoose.” 

“Then, I hope you’ll be the mongoose under my porch when the snakes come slithering by.” Will and Hannibal shared a look. Will felt pinned underneath Hannibal’s eyes.

“Eat your breakfast,” Hannibal commanded, his eyes averting first. Will breathed for the first time after they made eye contact. He slowly started to eat with Hannibal. After he finished, Hannibal took the bowls back and closed them up.

“I hope we can talk more in the future.” Hannibal smiles at Will. Will gives a small hum, avoiding eye contact again.

“I’m sure if you’re part of the investigation team that we’ll cross paths again.” Hannibal and Will walked out of the hotel room together, James walking back, waving at Will.

“I met Agent Crawford in the lobby; he’s looking for you, Dr. Lecter. He looks irritated.” James warns. Hannibal turns to smile at Will, bowing his head slightly.

“I’ll see you then, Mr. Graham.”

“It’s Will, Dr. Lecter.”

“Hannibal then.” They stare at each other once more before Hannibal finally takes his leave. James walks over to Will, giving him a small nudge.

“You can fantasize about your European dream man later. Barney said to stay active. He might put us on a job in the area. On the bright side, our van is still here. Active investigations are more fun with some old rock and roll.” With Will rolling his eyes, they go back into the hotel room and relax, both of them going to their separate paperwork for work. After an hour, James’ work phone goes off, and he answers.

“Hello?” James listens intently to the phone nodding along and getting a pen and paper to write down an address. 

“Alright.” He hangs up, looking at Will.

“We have a site they want an estimate at; it’s in Bloomington…”

…

The drive towards the house isn’t eventful. Will listens to the Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival as it cracked through the speakers. Janes hummed along as they finally found the address, the GPS chirping they had arrived. James turned into the house slowly, his eyes narrowing. Will took out Tylenol and popped a few into his mouth, trying to minimize the headache breaking.

“That’s strange; there are still cars here.” James murmured, cutting the engine. Will opens the glove box and takes out the gun, James giving him a look.

“This isn’t right.” Will proclaims. He and James exit the car. They slowly start walking up to the door before a woman screaming catches their attention. A woman with a bloody throat is pushed out of the door by a bloody man. He closes the door and charges forward. He bends down to look into her eyes. He grabs her neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She gasps as she struggles to breathe, Will looks at her then the door.

“James! I’m going in!” He readies the gun, putting a magazine into it. 

“God damn it— Will!” James yelled. Will doesn’t listen as he kicks down the door. James kneels by the woman and quickly takes out his phone. Will enters the house, barely hearing James call 911 on the phone. He enters, following the bloodied footprints into the house. He enters the kitchen and sees the man holding a teenage girl against his chest. She whimpers and looks at him desperately as the knife is by her throat.

“Sir, drop the knife!” Will yells, guns aimed at the man. The man looks at him, a brief look of confusion on his face before it turns to anger.

“You’re not FBI.” He makes a great show of slitting the girl’s throat, and Will shoots him when his chest is open. Blood splatters on his face, and he flinches. The man attempts to stab the girl again; however, Will holds the trigger down and drops the gun after all the bullets laid in the man’s chest. The man looks at him as he starts to die.

“See… see.” He gurgles. Will quickly drops to his knees next to the girl as she looks up at him desperately again. He put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Garret Jacob Hobbs! Jack Crawford, FBI!” A man’s voice yelled. Will looked up at the man, his breathing almost hyperventilating. Hannibal comes from behind Agent Crawford and crouches behind her head, removing Will’s shaking hands to replace them with his steady ones. Will looks at Hannibal, looking back at the girl and him before his breath starts to calm down. They stay there until the ambulance comes, and Will is instructed by Agent Crawford to stand outside. Will is wrapped by a shock blanket soon after, James stays by his side. They watch as the girl, Abigail Hobbs, is wheeled past them, Hannibal following her until she’s safe inside.

“Will Graham?” Will turns to face Agent Crawford.

“I’m taking witness statements. Can you tell me why you were here?” James moves to shield Will slightly. Will looks at James; he wonders if James feels similar to him.

“There was a call for a job estimate, we’re hired by the FBI to follow your crime scenes, but of active duty, we do other jobs. I received a call from our boss telling us a client asked for an estimate at this address…” James shows Jack the call records to confirm. Jack writes in a notepad, nodding.

“And the gun?” 

“We have it usually in the glovebox in a gun box for safety. We both have gun licenses, the gun registered in my name. You can do whatever you want with it. I don’t want it back.” James rubs his ear slightly. Jack looks at Will, and James steps away slightly.

“Is that what happened, Will?” Jack asks. Will nods, looking up at Jack but looking at his nose.

“The gun is James, we have licenses, and somebody called for a job estimate. We stepped out of the car when...” He pauses. “...Hobbs threw his wife out of the house. I kicked down the door and entered the house, hoping to save anyone else in the house. I don’t know what I was expecting; killing a man wasn’t something I wanted.” Will slowly retracts back into himself. He barely hears James talk about his police past but what he does hear is Hannibal.

“Will?” Hannibal asks. Will looks up at the man, Hannibal, reaching over and taking off his glasses.

“You’re Will Graham. The time is 9:32. You’re in Bloomington, Minnesota.” Will stares at him; Hannibal brings a hand to grip his shoulder.

“Repeat after me. You’re Will Graham. The time is 9:32 am, and you’re in Bloomington, Minnesota.”

“I am Will Graham. The time is 9:32 am, and I’m in Bloomington, Minnesota.” Will parrots. Hannibal pats his shoulder.

“Good. You’re in shock right now. What do you want to do right now?” Will looks back at the house, Hobbs’ body seen wheeled out, his hand falling from the sheet before being placed back. He shivered and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.

“I want to go home.” 

…

It takes a couple of hours to process Will, he had photos taken of him, and he was stripped and provided with new clothes at the hospital. Agent Jack Crawford seemed wary of him. The only reason why he wasn’t pressuring Will was because of Hannibal’s presence lingering. Will sat on the hospital bed after talking with the in-house therapist, making sure he’s in his sound mind. James was outside the room, looking in every so often. Will was sure James had to go under similar questioning and health check; maybe he had gotten extra because his medical file marked him as unstable. 

“Will?” Hannibal’s voice made him turn his head. Hannibal offered him a card, which he took.

“The FBI is willing to cover the costs of your therapy. I extend my services to you; it’ll be better to have someone familiar than a stranger.” Will inspected the neat lettering on the card, a thumb tracing over the neat signature.

“Don’t I have a trail too? I just killed someone.” Hannibal squared his shoulders, and Will watched as he processed what he needed to say.

“Yes, but it was a justifiable homicide. You killed Hobbs to save his daughter.” Hannibal held his hands behind him, adjusted himself to appear professionally for Will.

“Your boss has already agreed to let you off until cleared. Same with your partner.” Will perked up at his partner’s name.

“I didn’t think James would be too affected. He seems like he’s keeping it together.” Will moves his body to observe James again, the man sipping on a coffee with Agent Crawford.

“Alight, Hannibal, I’ll go to your therapy appointment. You've convinced me.” Hannibal nods, unclasping his hands.

“I’ll set it for next Friday at 7:30,” Hannibal promises. Will meets his gaze. Will gets an uneasy feeling creeping up his neck, but he rubs his neck to stop it.

“I’ll be there.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will waits for his therapy appointment, yet the world is convinced he needs to be thrown into uncomfortable situations.

Will returned home with fewer clothes than he started. They were used as evidence to corroborate his story. He was carrying only a light bag back home instead of the reassuring weight it previously had. He walked through the door into his home, quickly crowded by mutts; he pets them then ushers them back. Winston is the only one stubbornly sticking to his side. Will sets his bag on the floor and falls onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He has over a week before his appointment with Hannibal; the thought of bringing the appointment closer occurs, but Will decides to keep it the same. His phone chirps. Will looks at it and sees Alana’s name pop up. He opens it to see what his old friend has to say.

“Hi Will, I wanted to know if you’re alright? I just got updated on the case.” Dr. Bloom taught at the FBI Academy. They had met and became friends when he was still trying to join the FBI, but after being rejected, he moved to his third career choice. A small smile crept onto his face as he texted back.

“Hi Alana, yes, I’m alright. I have a therapy appointment scheduled for next week. Paid for by the FBI, of course.” Will imagines her chuckling to her phone at his joking.

“I didn’t think I’d see the day when you willingly schedule a therapy appointment. Who’s it with?” 

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter. We became acquaintances after he fed me breakfast. Our help isn’t thanked enough, supposedly.” 

“He was my mentor in college, and I can assure you that’s his character. Isn’t his food delicious?” Will smiled at his screen, such a small world for them to be brought together through a mutual friend.

“I imagine I only am at the surface. Yes, it is. I’m going to take a nap now. Talk later.” Will shuts his phone off and places it on the charger, getting dressed into a comfy set of pajamas before laying down. Maybe he’ll make fishing lures tomorrow, but for today he’ll nap.

  
  


…

  
  


Friday couldn’t come soon enough. Will had made two ft fishing lures on Sunday, taught his dogs how to roll over by Tuesday. By Thursday, he started researching different string shops near him to fix his piano. Will finds one, but in Baltimore, Will debates calling them before deciding he’ll check them out personally after being cleared. Finally, Friday came, and he dressed in the perfect flannel and slacks he had before taking his car to Baltimore. Parallel parking on the street was easy enough, getting out and locking the door. Heading inside and waiting in the waiting room awkwardly.

He checks his phone, worrying that he arrived too early. The door opens as his phone clock changes to 7:30. Will swiftly puts his phone away and looks up, Hannibal giving him a polite smile. 

“Come in.” Hannibal stands to the side, and Will takes in the sheer detail Hannibal has placed into the office. Will hears the door close but decides to look around. He walks to the ladder and looks behind him.

“May I…” 

“Of course.” Hannibal motions with his hand, and Will climbs the ladder. He looks at the book titles, looking at the corner of his eye to see Hannibal go to his desk and pick up a file.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“Your psychological evaluation. You’re functional and more or less sane. Well done.” Will moves to the railing, carefully not to lean on it. He was looking down at Hannibal. Hannibal neatly closes the file and offers a grin.

“Agent Crawford will know you’re not affected by Hobbs, and you’re free to go back to cleaning, not obstructed by paperwork.” Will moves away from the railing and walks the length of the upper floor.

“It’s highly suggested I need therapy. I’m surprised it’s not mandated already.” 

“What you need is a way out of dark places when your mind sends you there.” Will pauses. Looking at Hannibal, he glares.

“My mind didn’t send me anywhere. Whoever called my company sent me to that dark place.” Will turns to look at the books, irritation threatening him to be rude.

“Yet you brought something back. You feel emotionally obligated to become a surrogate father to Abigail after orphaning her.” Will looks down from over his shoulder.

“Don’t you feel obligated too? You were the one who saved her life. I was more or less putting a bandaid on it.” Hannibal looks up, and they make eye contact.

“Yes.” A pause. “I feel immensely obligated. Responsibility towards her, I fantasize about different fates of Abigail.” Will looks away first. Looking at an old book and touching its spine curiously.

“There are rumors about Abigail helping her father with those girls,” Will speaks up.

“How does it make you feel?”

“How does it make _you_ feel?” Will counters. He hears an exhale from Hannibal. Will wonders if he was one of Hannibal’s more stubborn patients.

“Vulgar.” Hannibal rumbles. Will pulls his hand back and continues to walk around the floor. “And entirely possible.”

“That’s not what happened.” Will counters. Hannibal gives him a curious look.

“Well, we will know when she wakes up, goes through questioning.” Will makes a face then pauses at a corner, looking down.

“Is this therapy or a support group?” Will asks him. Hannibal gives another grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s whatever you need to be.” Hannibal offers that to Will before he brings out a notebook.

“Now, would you kindly build on your empathy disorder? I find your file lacking.” Will snorts, leaning against the railing this time to look down.

“I should’ve known you’d be curious about that. In James’ words, ‘You get lost in the minds of the imprint others.’” Will reminisces, Hannibal writes a few lines of notes.

“Then how would you describe it?”

“I become a different person. Their thoughts are now mine, and their actions are explained to me within my knowledge. I should warn you that I will mirror behavior. I will end up mirroring your accent if we continue seeing each other.” Hannibal tapped the pen on the paper a few times before looking up.

“That’s completely normal with your diagnosis. I hope you’ll mirror my flavor pallet in the future.” They make eye contact again, Will laughs, and Hannibal gives a brilliant smile.

“I guess I’ll schedule another appointment.”

…

When Will finally heads back to work, it turns out that the most recent crime scene is on soil, out of their jurisdiction, so instead, he is shipped off to a job from a hoarder who was found in her home when she had passed active decay. To make this worse for him, scheduled with Matthew Brown, a part-timer who makes silence uncomfortable. Will thanks whatever god exists that Barney Matthews, a long time worker of Post Mortem, joins them.

“Gear up for bio and start removing everything. Bugs are everywhere, and please make sure to tear up the bed properly. I know James didn’t cut up the bed on your last job since it’s all going into an incinerator, but on my job site, it’s cut and gutted.” Will dutifully listened to Barney, nodding along with his demands. They all suit up and get the dumpster ready. Will takes a bin and moves into the bedroom. He pauses when he sees a nest of sorts on the floor and the clear impression of the woman on the bed. 

He picks up a nest of some sort. When he looks closer, it’s obvious it's the woman’s scalp that has become a bug nest. He swiftly disposes of it and focuses on the bed, throwing away pillows before taking out a box cutter. He stabs the sheet and tears it from top to bottom. He gives a few more stabs to ensure easy removal of the sheet. He peels off the covers and moves it into the bin. He forces himself not to react at the sight of cockroaches moving out from behind the bed.

The next step he takes is stabbing the bed, cutting around where the body was, removing the square, and throwing it away. When he looks over to the doorway, Matthew is standing there, watching him. Will retracts the box cutter without any words.

“I’m almost done in here. It looks like it leaked through to the floor.” Matthew nods; he turns to leave but pauses.

“I heard something happened in Minnesota. The Shrike got killed. TattleCrime couldn’t name the hero. Does your recent leave have anything to do with it?” Matthew asked. They stared at each other before a loud yell from Barney jerked them back into their jobs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Matthew.” He swears Matthew smirks at him before leaving. Will looked down into the open mattress to see that the woman had leaked down onto the floor.

“Shit.” Will decided today was the only day he considered quitting this job and turning into a boat mechanic.

…

Will has a nightmare that night; instead of the woman on the bed, it’s him. He feels himself being eaten by bugs but can’t do anything about it. The worst part is Garrett Jacob Hobbs is whispering into his ear as he sees another figure emerge from the darkness. A dark hand places itself on his stomach. It slowly sinks into his body, grabbing hold of his intestines.

“See?” Will sits up in bed, gasping. He groans at the pain in his stomach. Will slowly curls up on the box spring, trying his best to calm his anxiety. Will grabs his phone to check the date, relieved to find he has an appointment with Hannibal soon. He slowly forces himself to calm down and heads back to sleep. 

When he wakes up again, it’s to his phone beeping. When he checks it, he sees Alana’s name back on the screen. Will sleepily accepts the call, yawning into the line.

“Hello…?”

“Someone leaked your name to the press.” It’s like a splash of cold water hits him. He quickly is wide away, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m… surprised it took this long before my name was leaked,” Will admits. Alana huffs. He can imagine her eyebrow furrowing with worry.

“It’s on TattleCrime. Freddie has a staggering amount of information on you. I’m surprised that she didn’t name your social security or home address.” Will could only imagine what Freddie Lounds would’ve written about him if he worked for the FBI; they’d probably butted heads throughout his duration.

“So, why are you calling to tell me?” Will asks. Alana goes silent, the cramping in his stomach returns.

“She found out you were too unstable for the FBI… and that you have an empathy disorder. Among other things.” Will feels a headache place itself in the back of his head. He groans in distaste, not appreciating being a True Crime Celebrity.

“...I thought becoming a cleaner would minimize stuff like this.” He huffed. Alana lets an uncomfortable laugh slip out.

“Well, it’s the price of being a hero.” Will wonders if he’ll see himself become the villain once Freddie Lounds sinks her greedy fangs into him.

“Do you think Hannibal would appreciate me making the appointment closer?”

…

Will sits across from Hannibal after moving his appointment to a closer date. It was a stroke of luck that Hannibal had a position open for the afternoon. Will tapped the chair lightly, trying not to bounce his leg with his newfound anxiety.

”I’m sure you know why I moved my appointment closer.” Hannibal crosses his hand over his knee, giving a tilt of his head.

”I'm not sure what you mean, Will.” Will barely controls himself from giving a sharp retort.

”Your tablet you keep on your desk. Used as entertainment; you take notes by hand. I'm sure the Baltimore Sun isn't interesting enough.” Hannibal simply keeps his face neutral to him.

”Acute observation, but yes, I have read the recent article. It seems you're a flawed hero of sorts now instead of a simple cleaner.” Will laughs, rubbing his face. He scratches his beard briefly before looking towards the window.

”Hardly a hero to anyone. I can't even sleep without seeing a deadman’s face.” Hannibal unclasps his hands and leans forward slightly.

”Tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

”I just cleaned a hoarding scene, a woman died and found after she had finished bloating. When I went to bed, I dreamt I was her, alone, and being eaten by bugs as Hobbs whispered the word ”see” into my ear before this.” Will pauses, an odd look coming to his face. ”Creature? Man? It walked over and rearranged my guts.” Hannibal moves a hand over to write a note down, Will smirks slightly, looking back at Hannibal.

”It wasn't a gentleman; it went through my stomach to do it.” Hannibal gives him a small laugh with a shake of his head.

”No, I don't suppose that would be, ” Hannibal pins him underneath his eyes. ”Very enjoyable.” Will bristles and fights the embarrassment threatening to make him blush.

”Yes. Right.” Will looks at Hannibal's desk, admiring the craftsmanship.

”Your nightmares are the cause of stress. Have you had any other symptoms I should know about?” Will hums, thinking.

”I catch glimpses of Hobbs in crowds or the corner of my eye, but I think stress has something to do with it.” Hannibal smiles at him, then he pauses.

”I’m planning on visiting Abigail soon. Would you come with me? I think it'll ease the stress.” Will looks back at him, judging his sincerity.

”That sounds… unethical.” Will slowly says. Hannibal doesn't falter.

”It’s part of your therapy.” Will almost laughs at his seriousness but mirrors his smile.

”Then, I'll allow you to escort me.” The session ends with the exchange of a personal number. Will feels uncomfortable at first, but Hannibal assures him it's strictly business. Soon after Will leaves, Hannibal invites his next patient, a curly redhead woman with a recorder in her purse recorder.

…

Will opens his laptop, squinting at the fluorescent screen as it boots up. Once in, he searches for TattleCrime. Will clicks on the latest article and reads the words presented to him. It seems that Freddie Lounds has a knack for finding skeletons in the closet. 

“Mr. Graham deemed too unstable for the FBI after he lost his job as a cop in New Orleans, so his next job choice was to clean up crime scenes? Quite an odd choice. Rumored, Will possesses an ability to empathize with others to a deeper level, connecting without knowing someone personally. My source didn’t go into detail about it. I believe they only know Mr. Graham on his surface. However, despite all this, he manages to kill the Minnesota Shrike and save his daughter on the same day. Luckily he’s in therapy now. God only knows what will happen if he snapped. Maybe he would be the next killer on my blog…” Will takes a sip of cold coffee, smacking his lips in distaste. There’s more about his early career but nothing more about his current living situation. He knows now that whoever Freddie’s source was didn’t know him well but knew his life. James popped up into his mind, but he knew Will for years now. He would’ve told her that he emphasized with killers, mostly. Another headache works its way into the front of his head; Will closes his eye and takes a near-empty Tylenol and pops the rest of it. He stops before pondering, getting more. 

“Such a bold claim. That I’ll become a killer of the week.” When Will tries to exit the page, he notices the most recent crime scene. Morbid curiosity peaks, then he’s looking, seeing the victims in their neat graves. Fungus growing out of them, unable to move. He closes his eyes as the pendulum swings slowly. When he opens his eyes, he’s stepping back from the scene, time reversing what the FBI did. He imagines himself with a shovel, putting dirt into the grave.

“I don’t need to restrain him as I bury him in a shallow grave. He’s alive, but he’ll never be conscious again.” After the dirt is on top of the body, the duct tapes the man’s mouth shut.

“He won’t know he’s dying. I don’t need him to.” He places a tube into the man’s throat and attaches his arm to rebar, placing an IV into him.

“This is my design.” Will is back at his home; he clicks out of the article and passes a photo of a room full of deer horns. Will checks if she posted another article, finding nothing. He shuts down his computer before his phone vibrates. He picks it up to check it. 

“This is Hannibal Lecter. I plan on going to the hospital during the day tomorrow. Will you join me?” Will snorts at the formality of his text; they’ve crossed a distinct threshold of professional ethics as soon as they exchanged numbers.

“Yes. I don’t have work tomorrow, fortunately.” Will replied. Another buzz in his hand showed a quick reply.

“Then I’ll pick you up. Is the address on file accurate?” Will sent back confirmation before turning his phone off, glancing at the clock. It’s 10 pm. He’s sure if he doesn’t manage to get sleep now, Hannibal would have to deal with the worst of Will early on. Will gets up and takes some melatonin, hoping to fall asleep and stay asleep.

…

Despite his best efforts, Will ends up grumpy as ever. Only a few hours of fitful sleep graced him last night. Drinking a coffee from a thermos in his casual wear as Hannibal rolls up his driveway at the punctual time of 9 am. Will walks out of the house, locking the door behind him, sipping his coffee again. Hannibal unlocks his Bentley, and Will is careful with his shoes when he climbs in.

“I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I might get rude today.” Will warns him, giving him a side-eye and a long drink from his thermos. He looks down to see two coffee thermos’ already in the cup holders.

“I took into account your insomnia and got your coffee. Hopefully, your coffee won’t spoil your appetite.” Hannibal reached over, and classical music slowly filled the car. Will finishes his coffee before closing it and placing it between his legs, taking Hannibal’s thermos and taking a tasting sip. He groans at the flavor; it’s not the burnt, bland coffee he always manages to create for himself. He takes his time to enjoy the coffee as they ride towards the hospital. Will finishes the coffee when they park in the hospital parking lot.

“Thank you, Hannibal.” Hannibal glances over briefly.

“For what?”

“The coffee.” He quips, a small smirk on his lips as he exits the car. They walk towards the entrance. They get their visitor badges before going up the elevator. They stay quiet as it dings, and Hannibal leads him to the room.

“Abigail is still asleep, but she’ll—“ Hannibal stops when he walks into the room. Will looks in, seeing the bed empty.

“Is this the right room?” He watches Hannibal walk over to the charts and flip through them, a dark look coming across his face.

“Someone took her.” Hannibal swiftly leaves the room with Will trailing behind him. 

“Have you seen where Abigail Hobbs went?” Hannibal asks a nurse who was by a doctor; Will heads to the nurse's station.

“Who took Abigail Hobbs?” Will asks. 

“They took her for tests. I don’t know who took her.” The nurse said, honestly. Will curses before running down the closest emergency stairs; he heard Hannibal yell for him but ignored it. He went down to the base level and slammed the door open, looking over to see a man wheeling Abigail away. He ran full force at the man, bracing himself for an unusual linebacker tackle.

“Hey!” He yelled as he slammed into the man. They both fell over; Will hears a gun drop to the floor; he uses all his force to keep the man down. Will reaches one hand behind and grabs the gun with the man whimpering in pain, aiming it at the man as he slowly gets up and checks Abigail’s pulse. Will nearly celebrates, but then he looks at the man. A cold sense of dread filling his stomach.

“What were you going to do to her?” He asks cautiously, still aiming the gun.

“I wanted her to connect to you.” The man whimpers. Will tilts his head, the puzzle pieces coming together. He was the mushroom gardener.

“By burying her alive?” 

“The journalist said you understood me!” The man cries, Will guesses he should sue Freddie Lounds for defamation. 

“I don’t.” Will spits. The man gives him a knowing look.

“Well, you would have. The spores of mycelium know you’re there, they reach for you, I know who you’re reaching for.” The man pauses, trying to catch his eyes. “Abigail Hobbs. You should’ve let me bury her; you would’ve found her in a field where she was finally able to reach back.” Will kept aiming the gun at him; he heard footsteps then a careful hand on his back. He doesn’t dare look away from the killer.

“Will, the FBI is here now,” Hannibal tells him softly. The man gives Will a look of anguish; Will waits until he hears a distant “FBI!” In the background.

“You are Stachybotrys chartarum, not the mycelium.” Will lowers the gun quickly as the FBI detains the man, Jack Crawford holding out a gloved hand to which Will unclips the gun and gives him the ammo and firearm.

“Why have you been coming to my crime scenes lately?” They watch as Abigail swiftly gets taken away to her many wires and tubes.

“Hannibal drove me here so I could… talk to Abigail. Out of office therapy.” Will quickly says. Jack motions someone over to take Hannibal’s testimony while Will is stuck with him.

“You didn’t shoot anyone this time. I guess that’s less paperwork and headache.” Jack writes in a notepad his previous statement. Will tries to adjust his glasses before realizing he had gotten rid of them after Hobbs. He can’t easily avoid gazes anymore; he looks towards Hannibal, who talks calmly to the agent.

“Will you reuse my fingerprints from last time?” Jack gives a gruff laugh.

“They’re still on the shelf.” Will grins but hides it by rubbing his face. Jack lets him simmer at the moment before he coughs.

“Can you elaborate on how you caught Eldon?” Will shifts on his feet.

“Hannibal started asking nurses if they’ve seen her, I asked the head nurse, and she responded they had taken her to tests, but Hannibal’s quiet panic was contradictory to that. I ran to the emergency exit stairwell. Your killer wouldn’t risk going back the same way he came. When I was on the ground floor, I saw him wheeling her and me.” Will pauses. It’s not professional to say you sideswiped a man out of instinct. “Tackled him to stop him. His gun fell, and I used that to keep him still. He insisted I could connect with him.” Will scratches the back of his neck, uncomfortable.

“I read the TattleCrime article about me; she does make it look like I can. Someone failed to mention that cognitive empathy isn’t connecting.” Will sees Jack attempt to ask him more questions, but Hannibal places a steady hand on his back.

“Sorry, Agent Crawford, but I must take Will back. Apologies.” Hannibal states. Jack frowns but closes his notebook.

“Alright. Will’s cleared. I’ll make sure to call you next time, Dr. Lecter. It seems as Will is reachable through you.” Jack nods. Hannibal grins.

“Within reason.”

“Within reason.” They both depart, and Hannibal keeps his hand on his back, guiding him back to the car.

“I apologize that alternative therapy couldn’t start.” Will huffs, moving faster so Hannibal won’t have his hand on him anymore.

“I’m convinced I shouldn’t hang around you; strange things start happening when we meet.” They make it outside, and they climb into the car. Hannibal drives back towards Virginia.

“Why didn’t you shoot Eldon?” Hannibal asks. Will almost jumps out of his skin before remembering that Hannibal can talk, even during road trips.

“I didn’t need to. It wouldn’t have helped. Maybe shut that man up faster.” Will tapped his knee nervously.

“Did you see Hobbs at all?” Will laughs, the tapping stops.

“No, I didn’t have the choice not to shoot Hobbs. It felt just, relieving that I could save someone.” Will turns to look at Hannibal.

“How would you describe my disorder? My curse?” Hannibal tapped the steering wheel in silence, the notes of the music lowering.

“It’s beautiful in its way. Giving voice to the unmentionable.” Hannibal states. Will looks back at the road; he shifts uncomfortably. He was staring at his empty thermos on the door.

“You’re supposed to be my anchor,” Will whispered.

“I am… Do you feel so bad about Hobbs because killing him felt good? Is that why his ghost haunts you still?” Hannibal retorts. Will held his breath, then exhaled shakily.

“I… think I liked killing Hobbs,” Will admits. He hears Hannibal take a slow breath in then exhales.

“Killing must feel good to god too. He does it all the time, are we not created in his image?” Will feels anxiety creeping up his neck, goosebumps form on his arm.

“Hannibal, I don’t…” 

“God’s terrific. He dropped a church roof onto a room full of his worshipers last Wednesday night. While they sang to him.” Will looks back at Hannibal, watching his face.

“God felt good about that?” His voice is small; a slight tremor is interrupting it.

“He felt powerful.” Will’s eyes widened as he realized Hannibal had related it to him. He looked sharply at the road, a headache interrupting his shakey thoughts. The rest of the ride is silent, Hannibal dropping Will off with nothing but a nod. Will moves inside quickly, closing the door and watching Hannibal leave. He catches a glimpse of a black stag staring at him from a distance.

“I should’ve stuck to boat motors.” He quietly mutters. He only then realizes too late that he left his thermos in Hannibal’s car.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will tries his best at normalcy in life while Hannibal indulges in the uniqueness of his.

Will ignores Hannibal for the rest of the month; he hadn't made any future appointments, so no need to call to cancel. After their conversation, Will felt strange. He avoided Hannibal’s text to remind him of his missing thermos. His phone buzzes as he finishes a new lure; he glances at the message.

[Hannibal]  
Abigail Hobbs has woken up

It buzzes again, and it's Alana’s turn to inform him of the news. This time he picks his phone up to text Alana back.

  
[Will]

Do you think I could visit her? Or send a card?

[Alana]  
Someone will supervise, but not right now.

[Will]  
Supervised by who?

[Alana]  
Hannibal, me, or both. 

Will takes a breath in, turning his phone off and placing it face down on the counter. He clasps his hands together and leans on them, his face scrunching. 

”Of course, it'll also be Hannibal; she's his patient by proxy.” Will muttered angrily. He hears his dogs bark for his attention. Will looks down at his pajamas and summarises it wouldn't matter if Will let them out now. He puts his junk shoes on and walks out the door, letting them run out. when he looks over to the driveway, he nearly jumps.

”Morning.” Alana smiles. Will looks at her then to her car, squinting.

”Did you drive up, then text me?” Will asked incredulously. Alana pets the dogs while laughing.

”I have a hybrid. Great car for stalking.” Alana stands before him, and he looks down then up.

”I feel underdressed.” Will shifts his weight, deciding whether or not to make Alana wait outside to throw on pants.

”I have brothers.” Alana laughs at the look on his face, in between exasperation and sass.

”It’s courtesy, Alana, setting an example for the kids.” Will gestures to his dogs, and she lets her smile remained.

”Does your coffee still taste like burnt beans?” Alana asks. 

”It won't be the same without the extra flavor.” She shakes her head, laughing.

”Come on, get inside. I'll make the coffee myself.” They get the dogs in before heading inside, Alana running to the coffee maker and grabbing a cup. She pauses when looking at the thermos’.

”Where’s the thermos Don gave you? Isn't that your favorite?” Alana asks from over her shoulder. Will pauses at his search for a decent pair of pants for work and his work shirt. Will stops and looks over at her.

”Lost it.” He replies. Alana hums, taking two out and opening them to fill them.

”I never understood keeping things from exes. Then again, I don't have time to date.” Alana sighs, pouring the coffee into the cups.

”He hated that I still used it. So I used it until I lost it.” Alana snorts, and Will finally gets appropriately dressed, heading to the bathroom to look presentable. When he was out, she handed him the cup. He took it, and they sat down at his table.

”It might be awkward.” Alana warns. Will taps the table and looks out the window.

”I’m guessing visiting Abigail is off-limits.” Will sighs; he started to pick at his nails. Alana hums.

”Not yet; Jack is suspicious of her and doesn’t trust many people to be near her. I’m the one who’s seeing Abigail for her therapy. Speaking of, isn’t Hannibal your therapist?” Alana asks. Will clicked his tongue sharply, bringing a hand to his mouth and getting then finally bit off a nail that was stubbornly staying on.

”I don't know, we have conversations, but they’re not typical. You know well enough that I know every question they'll ask or what they predict from you. Hannibal is a blank slate; it makes me nervous.” He vented to her; she listened dutifully.

”Take everything you know about us psychiatrists and throw it out the window when Hannibal is involved. He strives to be unpredictable, unique. He was an ER surgeon before becoming a psychiatrist, which isn't usually the case for the field. Maybe a therapist or nurse practitioner but a surgeon? Never.” Alana assured him; he felt relief that he wasn't the only one who saw his style and found it unique. He would say strange, but that would be rude to Hannibal. Will stops picking at his nails, moving to scratch his beard.

”I’ll let you know how I feel about him. My opinion is still forming.” He intentionally leaves out the conversation that caused him to avoid Hannibal’s care for this month. He takes his cup and sips it; the familiar burnt taste washed down.

“We should hang out together soon. We haven’t had one of those in a while. I’ll get the fancy beer for you, and I’ll get the middle shelf whiskey.” Alana snorts, her hand pulling some hair behind her ear.

“If our schedules line up. We haven’t hung out since you finished your training.” Alana lamented. Will winces.

“Apologies, I just managed to get my home barely presentable.” Alana snorts and shakes her head as she moves the cup to her mouth.

“It’s both our faults. We’re married to our work.” Will huffs, and they fall into a comfortable silence as they drink their horrible coffee together.

“Don’t be nervous when you see her when you do,” Alana tells him. Will took another sip of coffee.

“I’m not nervous about the meeting. I’m nervous that another crazy man will try to connect Abigail to me again.” Will mutters back, Alana covers her mouth as she chokes back a laugh, but Will smiles to show her she could laugh. 

“I see you still cope with humor.” Alana has a sparkle in her eye. Will feels happy that he put it there.

“Laughter is the best medicine.” They continue their coffee session before Alana excuses herself. Will watched her leave, sad that their lives have separated them dramatically. Will heads to work soon after, pulling out the driveway. When he arrives at the office, Barney, his boss, rushes him.

“You’re stable, right? Right. We got a call to clean up a dispute between two neighbors.” Will gives him a blank look before the man waves him away.

“James is with you today. The FBI is processing your psych evaluations so that they can send you in again.” Barney left, and Will headed off to James’ truck. James had the side opened as he counted their equipment. James looked back after hearing his shoes crunch in the concrete and smile.

“We’re back together again. You’re lucky your European dreamboat had an appointment ready. I needed three appointments because one was paperwork, getting to know me, and THEN evaluation. Ridiculous.” James shook his head. Will watched as he went back to inventory, and the sense of familiarity filled him. James closing the side door and gets into the front seat.

“Bio, of course, neighbors fought and one got stabbed. Chased the injured neighbor down the stairs until killing him.” James backs up as he tells this. They start the drive with the tune of “The Boys Are Back in Town” by Thin Lizzy, lighting up the van. They pull into the apartment complex, parking close to the scene. Will and James exit the van and start to look at what they’re dealing with today. James looked at the blood pooled on the sidewalk that led upstairs.

“Alright. I’ll start cleaning here, go upstairs and clean what you can before I come up.” James sighed. They walked to the side and placed their uncomfortable cleaning suits and their bio masks. Will grabbed one of the two bio bins and carried it upstairs, opening the door, pausing he might as well start from the front door before going in. Walking back to grab his supplies, he sprays and wipes it up after the chemicals do their jobs. Will continues until getting into the living room. He stands there as the pendulum swings slowly, lulling him into his imagination.

The feeling of anger is the first one to grip him when he awakens in his recreation.

“I stormed into the apartment. I’ve warned this neighbor before. I gave him ways out before this. It just so happens this time will be the last.” He walks into the apartment again. The door is unlocked. They argue in the living room, Will grabs a knife on the table and stabs him. All the momentum falling in that moment as a sick sense of clarity comes over him.

“I’ve stabbed him out of impulse; now we both know I can’t just stop. I’ve started already.” He pulls the knife out and steps back, watching the blood pour onto the floor. The neighbor stumbles away, clutching his gut as he shuffles away. Will walks behind him as he struggles down the stairs; when they get to the bottom floor, Will attacks the neighbor again, shoving him to the floor to straddle him. It’s now Garret Jacob Hobbs under him, looking up with resignation.

“I finished what I started. My knife in the chest over and over. We both knew only one of us was going to die when we started fighting. This is my design.” Will wakes back up and realizes that his body had been cleaning while he imagined. A sense of dread fills him as he places the paper towel down.

“Wh…” James walks upstairs, and he inspects the surface level job Will has done before he sees Will’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Will is obligated to give him an answer. To tell him the truth, they’ve been partners for years. James has been the one constant in his life for the past couple of years. 

“Nothing. Let’s get this all done and head back.”

  
  
  


…

  
  
  


Will hears the car this time, the sleek Bentley rolling up his driveway as Hannibal puts it into park and exits. He checks the clock to see the time is 8 pm, well past any pleasant hours. Will goes on his porch, arms crossed, and his hips to one side with his head tilted the other.

”This is quite forward, Dr. Lecter. I believe it's courtesy to warn someone when you're coming over.” Will quipped. Will basked in the blank look Hannibal gave him, knowing full well that Hannibal texted and called him. Hannibal exhaled slowly, looking into Will’s eyes.

”Why have you been avoiding me, Will?” Will turns his head, breaking eye contact.

”Avoidance is typical under the circumstances of our last conversation.” 

“I disagree. One must confront the lion in the room.” They stare at each other, and Will barely controls the thought of ripping his hair out.

“I brought dinner.” Hannibal holds up a bag, filled with no doubt delicious food.

“Then come in.” Will walks in first, and Hannibal follows in soon after. Hannibal begins setting up dinner for them, placing the Tupperware down, and presenting the meal to Will. Will grabs mismatched silverware from his drawers and places them down. He holds glasses for them, and Hannibal barely hides the look of disdain for the coca-cola glass.

“I brought wine to pair with the food… Do you have any wine glasses, Will?” Hannibal tentatively asks. Will huffs and takes the glasses back, getting two simple wine glasses.

“A friend bought me these. I’m obligated to inform you that many boxed wines have graced that glass.” Hannibal inspects it before placing it down. He takes his wine out of the bag carefully.

“Then, I hope they will refine with time.” Hannibal finally sits down with Will. Will held his glass out, and Hannibal poured it elegantly. Will waited until he finished filling his drink before he started eating.

“I’m sure there’s more to this sudden meeting than refining my pallet.”

“It’s part of it. Abigail has awakened and will go back home. Jack wants her to admit her guilt.” 

“Alana told me she woke up. I didn’t know Agent Crawford would be so hasty.” 

“No. I would’ve preferred it if we could take you instead.” They look at each other. Will takes a big piece of steak and shoves it into his mouth. Making Hannibal wait until he finished, the other man stared at his display.

“I’m not FBI. After I got rejected, I went for the third option. If this didn’t pan out, boat motors.” Will reminds. Hannibal hides his chuckle with his glass.

“Yes. It’s quite unfortunate. You even wrote that lovely paper. Your brilliance stagnated, I believe.” Will glares, another sip of wine happens.

“You’re not my therapist anymore. So stop trying to get me to open up.”

“I never truly was.” The silence is deafening. Will refuses to look at Hannibal as he continues to eat. The wound of silverware clinking on Hannibal’s fancy glass Tupperware. Their meal almost empty before Will breaks the silence.

“I find myself wanting to kick you out of my house.”

“You’re allowed to do so. Nothing is stopping you.”

“It’d be too rude, but I believe you will come back anyway. Like an outdoor cat.” Hannibal chuckles at him, their eyes meet, and Will finds himself entranced.

“Am I the cat who attempts to provide for their owner with their kills?” The question is full of intent. Will doesn’t know why he feels like he’s in danger. Hobbs is by his ear, and the black creature from before stands before Hannibal. 

“ _See_?” Hobbs hisses.

“Will?” Hannibal sounds concerned, Will wants to reply but finds himself hindered by fear. His breathing picks up; he feels like he can’t breathe. The creature, the void of a man, grows antlers steadily. It raises a hand and swipes at Hannibal. Will’s eyes roll back. A pulse of pain on his head is the only indication he’s alive before he finds himself in darkness.

…

  
  


Will wakes up to a cold towel on his head. He looks around, panicked but finds himself only in his bed. He’s in the clothes he wore before he passed out. Will looks over to where a hand was on his own, looking to the side to see Hannibal sleeping in a chair. He looks out of place on the ugly mustard yellow chair. His coat is hanging behind it, and his sleeves rolled up. Will finds himself wondering why Hannibal stayed, why he’s in this state over him. Will looks around his living room to see some things tidied up, meaning Hannibal must’ve gotten bored.

“ _Am I the cat who attempts to provide for their owner with their kills?_ ” The question pops up in his head as he squeezes Hannibal’s hand. The man wakes up in an instant. He blinks and zeros in on Will.

“Will, are you alright? You just had a severe panic attack.” Hannibal explains to him.

“Yeah… I might shake when I get up.” Hannibal gives Will a mixed expression.

“You’ve had similar before.”

“Comes with the territory.” Hannibal gives him a look, and Will basks in his worry. It felt nice to be worried about it for once.

“Your file failed to mention that,” Will smirks.

“If I have to throw away what I know about psychiatrists when you’re involved, you’re going to have to ditch my file to know me.” Hannibal looks shocked, but then a grin stretched on his lips.

“Seems we both have to reintroduce ourselves.” Hannibal picks up his hand, kissing his knuckles like he’s some rich southern belle.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter.” He whispers. Will controls the urge to slip his old accent just to sell the fantasy.

“William “Will” Graham.” He replies. 

“To answer your question before, you’re like a cat. You’re stubborn and unpredictable at times, but you become a faithful companion once the initial introduction is over. I prefer dogs, but it seems like you’re the exception.” Hannibal laughs, his eyes crinkle on their sides, and Will is relieved that Hannibal finally let Will see himself, a glimpse.

“Rudeboy.” He admonished, but nothing came out of it. Hannibal fusses over him before settling back into the chair.

“You can sleep in the bed. I would get another blanket from the closet.” Will tells him softly.

“My flight is in a couple of hours. It’d be a waste to get too comfortable.” Will watches him, rolling to his side.

“Are you alright having dog hair on your clothes?”

“I was prepared to make that sacrifice when I first came over.” Hannibal looks over to an abandoned piano.

“Do you play the piano?” It’s a pleasant distraction from their fast-growing domesticity.

“Not well. I learned enough to have old ladies clap at my effort. I was thinking about getting it tuned.” Will goes silent, Hannibal leans close. It’s almost like they’re sharing a secret.

“I’ll look forward to this talent of yours then.” Hannibal smiles. Will smiles back, a headache slowly forming where he hit his head.

  
  
  


…

  
  
  


“I was expecting a line of chalk to where her body was.” Abigail stared at the dried blood of her mother incredulously.

“They only do it when the victim is…” Alana offers softly.

“Alive.” Jack finishes. Alana and Jack walk inside, and Hannibal steps closer. Hannibal looks at the stain.

“It seems they didn’t… clean thoroughly. Will said that as long as it’s not on dirt, it’s cleaned. If you’re truly curious, ask Will if you two meet.” Hannibal gives her a distraction. Abigail looks at Hannibal, and he sees the bubbling temper beneath.

“Then why can’t he be here?” She hissed. Hannibal suspects that in some way, Abigail has imprinted on Will. They’re bound by blood, but Will being unable to meet her has caused her to get desperate. Hannibal knew she was going to manipulate Will. She’s trying to do it to him. There’s a dark feeling coiling in his stomach. It’s similar to the feeling he gets when someone becomes a long pig to him.

“You know why Abigail.” He says softly. Abigail watches him, looking back at the stain.

“Goodbye, mom.” She leaves him to follow. Jack takes him in one direction while Alana takes Abigail in the other. They stop in the kitchen, looking in.

“Abigail hasn’t said a word about the case. She’s kept her lips closed since she woke.Dr. Bloom and even that Freddie Louds are unable to have her lips loosen.” Hannibal breathes in, taking in the old scent of pork and blood.

“It might be because her savior hasn’t talked with her yet.” Jack looks at him, glaring.

“What? You mean that cleaner who got caught up with this?” Hannibal feels offended on behalf of Will. He holds himself in a defensive pose, looking at the scene. Hannibal knows if he looks now, his mask will fall. A smile plasters itself on his face, giving him the illusion of calm.

“Yes, Will Graham. What we’re lacking is our outsider who saved Abigail twice.” Hannibal gently reminds Jack. Jack grunts, crossing his arms.

“Contact him. We’ll schedule something.” Hannibal neatly stepped out into the living room where Abigail was sitting awkwardly on the couch, holding a photograph. Alana is seated next to her as he walks in.

“Agent Crawford has agreed to let you and Will meet.” Abigail lights up, but Alana looks worried. Hannibal understands that Will, and she has a history together, as friends or otherwise. He’d have to press for details with one of them alone. 

“I want to go back to the hospital,” Abigail says in a stressed tone, deliberately making her eyes water. Jack walks in then, he looks at the scene, and after receiving a quick glare from Alana, he crosses his arms.

“We’re visiting the cabin before we leave—” The door opens, and a young woman steps in from the side hallway, next to Jack Crawford. Hannibal finds she looks similar to the girls taken except for the distinct scent of cigarettes. Abigail looks at her with eyes full of familiarity.

“Marissa.” She breathes. The two girls quickly join each other and walk out of the house. Jack watches him suspiciously while the two psychiatrists make their way behind.

“She looks like the other girls,” Alana says softly to Hannibal. Hannibal looks at Marissa, his lips frowning.

“She’s Abigail's friend. No father wants their child to have no friends.” He reasons. Alana seems slightly relieved. They’re silent before Hannibal speaks up again.

“What’s your relationship with—“

“I do.” A man’s voice breaks through their conversation—a sharp look to a skinny boy who looks like he hasn’t had peace in days. Alana and Jack rush over to help as Marissa throws a rock, Hannibal slowly makes his way. He looks around before carefully covering up the bloody rock. Hannibal feels the pressing need to go hunting again. Maybe Marissa can do more than slander every name that comes from her mouth.

  
  


…

Will enjoys the next job; they get called to a clean up where the owner has died, outside from his home, and left his family with mountains of beer cans with a rotting house. Shoveling up cans and putting them into bags has a positive effect on Will.

“I think my dad drank this much in a year.” Will jokes, James almost closes the bag on him while laughing.

“Honestly, I think this is how much my whole family has drunk in a lifetime.” They shake their heads as they continue shoveling. The mood is slowly sobering.

“I can’t imagine already being depressed, then drinking and leaving a mess, and then the mess gets them upset, and they drink and…” Hames mutters. Will silently agrees. It’s a vicious cycle that eats someone up.

“It’s a shame the family couldn’t help sooner.” Will sighs. James sniffs and looks at the walls, observing the holes in the drywall.

“Well, hopefully, they won’t have any hoarders in the family anymore. They know the warning signs now.” James chirped. Will smiled from underneath his mask, happy that James changed the subject.

“Did you see your prince charming at all? You’re oddly happy.” James teased. Will blushed, taking another shovelful to distract him hopefully, but after James staring for longer than necessary, he gave in.

“He came over my house… fed me dinner with fancy wine.” Will slowly states. James narrows his eyes.

“What aren’t you telling me, William?” Will avoids his eyes, disposing of more cans.

“Will.” 

“He stayed the night— no, not like that. He just took care of me. I passed out from a panic attack.” James looks happy, then his expression changes to a fierce one.

“Run that by me again?”

“He stayed the—“

“No.”

“...I passed out from a panic attack.” James quickly ties the bag and throws it to the side. He puts his pointer finger into Will’s shoulder.

“William Mongoose Graham! Passing out from a panic attack isn't an everyday thing!” James yells. Will looks away guilty.

“It’s fine. Hannibal took care of me.” Will waves his hand off his shoulder. James glares hard at him.

“It doesn’t matter. After the Hobbs incident, you’ve been weird. I think you regressed on your progress.” Will wants to retort, but James knows him. They both go silent, and James grabs another back as they continue cleaning. It’s awkward and tense as they finish the initial clean. They both separate and deconstruct parts of the wall that were affected by mold and start deep cleaning.

“I worry for you, Will,” James spoke up as they packed up. Will pauses in tying his bag, looking over.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s exactly why I worry.” They share a look for a long time. Will feels the raw amount of care James gives him and ducks away.

“Thank you…”

…

  
  


Will goes to sleep that night in a strange mood. He knows he should probably stay up instead, knowing that he was inviting a nightmare tonight. However, after taking the dogs out, Will doesn’t care anymore. He needs sleep anyway. Sleep cradles him, wrapped in a loose sheet that offers him no warmth.

“No, please.” Will hears panicked breathing. Suddenly his eyes open, and he’s standing behind Abigail with a knife to her neck. Will looks over to see a raven stag. It bristles as he looks at it. Abigail whimpers in his arms, an ink colored hand reaches over to hold his hand. Will feels the creature on his back, another hand on his waist. It helps him cut Abigail’s throat open. 

“No!” Will yells, sitting up in his bed. He’s sweating; the dogs perk up to check for danger before laying their heads back down. Will stumbles out of bed and disposes of his clothes. Taking a cold shower, putting on boxers after getting out before sitting at his kitchen table, looking out the window. He checks his phone at 2 am. He sighs and clicks Hannibal’s name.

  
[Will]

Are you awake?

  
[Hannibal]

Yes, I’m an early riser.

[Will]  
Liar. You’re a light sleeper.

[Hannibal]  
I won’t lie. I simply tell small truths. 

  
[Will]

I’ll take your word for it.

[Hannibal]  
Have you woken from a nightmare?

[Will]  
Yeah.

Before Will could say anything further, the phone rang. He quickly accepted the call, placing the phone on the speaker.

“Hello, Will.” Hannibal’s voice fills his ear, coiling comfortably in it.

“Hello, Hannibal. Sorry to wake you.” Hannibal takes a deep breath in, shuffling is heard, then it stops.

“Never be sorry. We always have such pleasant conversations.” Hannibal rumbled from the other line, Will places his phone down, rubbing his beard again.

“I guess… I don’t think I’ll talk about it now. It didn’t send me into a panic attack, but it definitely unsettled me.” Hannibal hums from the other end; Will feels Winston nudge his leg before sitting in between them. Will rubs his head instead.

“Have you had an experience like that?” 

“How’s your trip so far?” Will changed the subject. Hannibal was silent for a second.

“It’s well; Abigail is adjusting.” Will knows Hannibal can’t exactly go into detail but is happy for his update nonetheless.

“Will you be my escort when I see her?” 

“Of course.” The silence continued again, but Will heard Hannibal making a clicking sound on the other end like he was closing an ice chest.

“Are you checking your ice in your hotel? They have sensors on things like that.” He hears Hannibal's chuckle through the phone.

“Are you worried they’ll overcharge me?” 

“No, it’ll be very rude of them. You probably paid for extra expenses in the case.” 

“Correct, it’s quite frustrating to check their water then get charged even if you haven’t drunken it.” They both laugh, Will gets up with his phone and lays down in bed.

“Thank you for keeping my mind afloat,” Will tells him, genuinely. He hears a sharp intake of breath from Hannibal, then a long exhale.

“Anything for you, Sweet William.” They say their goodbyes before hanging up. Will has a warm buzz around him as the words Hannibal said to him repeatedly whisper into his ears.

“Sweet William.” There’s a distinct sound of ice moving as if something has been placed in it, then a click of a portable cooler.

“See?”

  
  
  


…

  
  
  


Jack found Marissa’s body in the antler room; after that, Hannibal quickly took Abigail back home. After he drives up and a confrontation with Marissa’s mother happens, Hannibal finds himself wondering if killing Marissa was worth the trouble.

“Abigail!” Ms. Lounds steps out from the darkness of the porch, and Hannibal finds himself pleased.

“Ms. Lounds, you’re on the wrong side of the police line.” Police grab her. Abigail tries to talk to Freddie, but Alana hushes her. Hannibal follows the red-haired woman as Alana takes Abigail inside.

“I’m not the only one peeking!.” Hannibal stops the policeman.

“Have you’ve seen a young man with unwashed ginger hair?” Hannibal inquires. Freddie smirks.

“Depends why you’re asking.” Hannibal suppresses the smile he desperately wants to show.

“Because he might’ve killed the Schurr girl.” Freddie processes this information. Possibly reframing all the conversations previously had with him. She looks at him, giving a pained smile.

“He’s here.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal says, turning briskly but stopped by another officer. Alana joins him outside.

“They want our statements.” She smiles at him. Hannibal glances at the house before looking at the office. He mutes the conversation, only adding to it when necessary. Once the officer has written both of their stories, they make their way inside.

“Abigail?” Alana asks. Hannibal smells the scent of blood then sees Abigail coming up the stairs. Hannibal makes a split-second decision, slams Alana’s head into the wall, and then gently places her down.

“She’ll be alright. Abigail.” Hannibal addresses the panicked girl. She looks up at him like a deer in headlights.

“Show me.” She slowly turns around and has him follow her into the living room. They step around Nicholas Boyle’s body, looking down at it.

“He was going to kill me.” Abigail whimpers. Hannibal gives her an unimpressed look.

“Was he?” They kneel by him, Hannibal assessing the wounds. Abigail’s breathing slows down as he calms. Hannibal knows now that she’s perfect for the taking.

“You butchered him. They’ll see what you truly are when they see what you did.” Abigail makes a pitiful attempt to convince Hannibal otherwise. Hannibal looks over at her, suppressing the urge to grin.

“I can help you, but you have to ask. My career and my life are at stake. I give you this choice, you either tell them you were defending yourself when you gutted him or…” Hannibal reaches over and points at Nicholas’ body.

“We hide the body.” Abigail stays silent for a few minutes, looking back and forth between him and the body before whispering

“Yes.”

… 

Hannibal drives with Abigail down to the hospital, the body disposed of, and the scene cleaned up with the limited time. Abigail stares out the window to the moon.

“Do you think Will would’ve helped?” Abigail whispered. Hannibal hums, the urge to call the man graced him.

“Maybe.” Abigail sighs; he hears her scratching her hands like she’s attempting to remove the skin from them.

“I want to meet Will. I want him in our family.” Hannibal wonders if it was the wrong decision to keep her alive. She’s manipulative and likes her secrets. She felt as if she was the smartest in the room. That makes Hannibal pause. Abigail reminds him of himself, bloodthirsty and desperate.

“He’ll be your father and my partner.” Hannibal gently reminds Abigail of her place on the totem pole. William will be above her; just because she’s killed more people than Will doesn’t make her Hannibal’s equal. Maybe one day, when she grasps her killing intent, she’ll stand next to him. For now, she’s a puppy that needs training.

“I’ll arrange something with Agent Crawford. I’m sure talking with Will will solidify your cover story that you desperately want to sell to Freddie Lounds.” Hannibal says in distaste. Abigail looks over to him, a doe look that he’s come to know fondly.

“You wouldn't want to claim you’re innocent? Framed?” She questioned.

“No. I’ll simply be insane.” They pull into the parking lot afterward.

“I’ve damned myself to hell, haven’t I?” Abigail whispers. Hannibal looks over and smiles at her.

“I’ll be your guide then.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal get closer together as the holidays remedy their hesitance for getting closer. However, the universe is a fickle thing, seeming hellbent on having them so close yet so far.

Will stood in front of the hospital. It looked down at him. Will wonders what’s going to happen when he tries to see Abigail again. Another serial killer trying to connect with him, perhaps? His thoughts paused when he felt a hand on his back. He looks to his side to see Alana smiling at him, Hannibal catching up.

“Is this support for both of us?”   
  


Alana’s gentle hand smacks him square in the back.

“You better get inside before I convince Hannibal to drag you.” Will quirks an eyebrow and looks at Hannibal, who coughs into his fist.

“The last resort, I assure you.” 

Will figured he’d leave it alone. Will walks up the stairs with both following. Will allows Alana to speak for him as they get their visitor badges. They ascend the stairs this time per Alana’s insistence. Will finds himself thankful for the open space. Will feels panic simmering underneath the surface when they exit and walk down the hallway to Abigail’s room. 

“Will?” Hannibal whispers to him. Will looks up at him.

“I’m nervous,” Will admits.

“That she won’t like you?”

“No, that something will happen again.”

They stop, and Hannibal waves Alana forward. Hannibal takes both of Will’s hands and looks him in the eyes.

“She’s not helpless anymore. She wants to see you.” 

  
Will holds eye contact until Alana clears her throat. They look over, and she gives a shy smile.

“Abigail’s excited.”

Will slowly takes his hands back, missing the feeling of Hannibal’s smooth hands against his calloused ones. He walks through the door, looking over at the small girl in the bed. A blue scarf neatly tied around her neck. He slowly walked over and sat down on the chair next to her. They were silent; the two psychiatrists stood by the door frame.

“I don’t want to thank you.” Abigail piped up.

“I don’t want you to.”

Abigail looks at him, her eyes shifting around his face, trying to figure him out.

“Why?”

“Because I killed someone important to you. It doesn’t matter what he was, but he was your father.” Will rumbles. He meets Abigail’s eyes. They really looked like doe eyes.

“...What do you do for a living again.”

Will smiles at the question. He knows he can answer this one. As the two brunettes have begun to talk, Hannibal looks over at Alana and motions to step out with him. They watch the pair from the parallel wall, peeking in the room every so often.

“What’s your relationship with Will?” Hannibal asked.

“What will you do with this information?” She questioned, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Indulge my curiosity, please.”   
  


Alana hums, looking back into the room.

“He’s my friend. We met when he was still in the academy or attempting to join it. He had to finish his college courses before then.” Alana moves hair behind her ear, her eyes full of remembrance.

“Apologises for being blunt, but were you two romantically involved?” 

  
The reaction is instant. She makes a disgusted face. Hannibal is in awe at the pure repulsion she shows.

“No!” She hissed, barely containing her yelling. She coughs awkwardly when a nurse glares past her.

“No. We’re just friends. We have no attraction to each other, just platonic affection. Will doesn’t like…” She pauses, crossing arms. Hannibal sees her thinking about what to say next.

“It’s not my place to tell you.” She quietly told him. Hannibal wished to press, but Will exited the room. Will had a small grin on his lips, and Hannibal watched as Alana brightened up at his appearance.

“We decided to end it early today; Abigail mentioned group therapy. Are you both free for lunch?” Will asks. 

“Oh, I would love to, but…”

“Alana has an appointment.” Hannibal smoothly says. Will’s grin falters, but he keeps it composed.

“Another time.”

“Yes, another time.” Hannibal rumbled. Will walked away from them. Alana watched him leave then ruffled her coat.

“Let’s head back.” 

  
After wishing Abigail the best, they walk together back to the car. Alana sat in the passenger seat while Hannibal started up the car. She looks down at the door and makes a face.

“Is that Will’s thermos?” She questioned. Hannibal looked over. In truth, he had cleaned it and placed it back in the spot after Will had thrown his fit. Hoping that maybe Will will come back into his car and take the thermos back.

“Yes. He left it here.” Alana took it out and inspected it. Chuckling at the bottom of it. Hannibal looked over briefly. 

“What’s making you chuckle?” Hannibal inquires.

“Will’s ex gave him this thermos.” 

  
Hannibal stopped whatever thoughts ran through his head. Alana turns it over in her hand, testing the weight. 

“He kept it because it made them mad that he still had it that he continued to use it,” Alana adds on.

“I can return it to him. I’ll probably see him first. I need to drop by and have a hang out with him.”

Hannibal felt a coil of jealousy grip his heart. He grabbed the steering wheel.

“No need. I’m visiting him this Sunday. I’m sure Will would appreciate you being over without returning something he lost.” 

Alana mulled over it before putting it back. She placed her hands back into her lap.

“You’re right; I should just simply go over without an excuse,” Alana says confidently. Hannibal enjoys the radio as he drops Alana off at home. Before returning home himself. Briskly walking over to the passenger side door once leaving the car. Hannibal takes out the thermos and eyes it up, looking at the bottom as he closes the door and walks into his house.

“Will and Don… First Christmas…” Hannibal mutters. Once he’s in the kitchen, he places it down, glaring at the offending thermos. He finds more wrong with it when he studies it. The dents in the metal, the scratched and cheap decorative cover, the plastic cup that won’t close all the way, and…

Hannibal stops himself. It won’t do Will any favors by criticizing a beloved thermos. Then another thought worms its way into him. There’s a chance he still holds affection for this “Don.” It was their first Christmas together, and Will is a very sentimental person. He moves the offensive thermos around on the counter like a top. Then he picks it up and drops it. It rings when it hits the floor, and the plastic cap on top shatters.

“Hm.” Hannibal slowly moves to pick it up, weighing the thermos. Hannibal nods before placing it on the counter again and grabbing a broom. After cleaning, he flips through his yellow pages and calls a number that sticks out to him.

“Hello Tom, this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. I was wondering if you do walk-ins…. Alright, I’ll come in soon.” Hannibal hung up the phone and smiled at the thermos. Finally happy with it again.

  
  


...

  
  


“Thanksgiving?” Will asked. He sat back in his kitchen chair as Hannibal stayed perfectly still in his. It was the afternoon on a Sunday. Hannibal had made it a mission to try to have Will integrate their meetings into a schedule. 

“Yes, I don’t celebrate for obvious reasons, but I understand it’s an American tradition. I can assume you had your share of processed cranberries on turkey.” Will laughed at the pained expression on Hannibal’s face.

“It’s not that bad. It could’ve been much worse. TV dinners with a cold center—“ Will snorted at the horror on Hannibal’s face. It was too easy to tease Hannibal about these things. 

“I make it my goal for you never to have something like that ever again,”

Will smirks at his bold statement, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re going to have to shackle me down if you don’t want me to make TV dinners for myself.” Will jokes. Hannibal shook his head.

“I’m not going to discuss it further, but I extended an invitation to my house. Have someone for this holiday.” 

Will pauses at that, a small blush working onto his cheeks as he smiles at Hannibal.

“I accept your invitation.” Will declares. Hannibal had the idea of a get together with him for thanksgiving. Hannibal didn’t celebrate the holiday but didn’t want Will to be alone for it either. This was a joyous occasion, a step further into their relationship. However, nothing could ever truly work out for Will, couldn’t it? A shrill phone ring caught both their attention, and Will picked up his.

“Hello?”

“They have a scene that needs cleaning, just finished searching for it.” Will nearly chucks his phone across the room.

“Oh. Alright.” Will ended the call and glared at the phone. Why did it have to be him? He couldn’t celebrate this small victory with the man he’s interested in. 

“Will?” Hannibal asks.

“They called me in for a crime scene,” Will grumbled. Hannibal looks at the calendar “We have 4 more days. It couldn’t take that long to clean a crime scene.” 

Hannibal reaches over to hold his hand. Will almost felt burnt by it, jumping up startled. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, but can you take care of the dogs for today? It sounds like they were sending James my way already.” Will asks. Hannibal smiles he dusts off his suit jacket.

“Of course.”   
  


Will nods and quickly starts packing a simple overnight. He walks over to the cupboard and looks for a thermos to use.

“Hannibal? Do you know what happened to my thermos I left with you?” 

Hannibal stays silent before a smile spreads onto his face.

“No, I had my car cleaned, and it seems like I failed to catch it.”   
  


Will has a strange expression on his face, nodding as he processes what Hannibal said. Will quietly takes another thermos out of the pantry and starts the coffee.

“Alright. Can you fill this thermos while I get things from upstairs?” Hannibal nods, and they part their separate ways. Hannibal watches the coffee maker fill and picks up the thermos, looking at the bottom. There’s no engraving this time but a small rainbow flag. Hannibal turns the thermos upright and finds himself pleased. The scent of burnt coffee beans almost makes him rethink, allowing Will to keep this abomination of a coffee maker. Still, Hannibal decides he’ll let it pass. Will comes back from downstairs, rubbing his neck as Hannibal neatly fills the thermos.

“Everything is ready,” Will rumbles. Hannibal silently hands over the thermos, and Will takes a long sip. Only his eyebrows give the smallest hint of disgust. They enjoy the silence of the house, the dog’s nails clicking on the wood flooring while the house’s chill catches them in a draft.

“I bet your home is never this cold,” Will mutters. Hannibal puts his hands together and leans slightly on the counter, looking over at Will.

“I don’t make it a habit. I don’t like the cold.” 

Will feels there’s something more there, but when he attempts to ask for a glimpse underneath Hannibal’s mask, a car horn beeps. Will looks over at his window and sees James’ smiling face, waving at him. He sees James look at the other vehicle in his driveway and gives a thumbs up. Will laughs and glances at Hannibal.

“I’ll be home for thanksgiving.” He vows. Hannibal smiles at his sincerity.

“I’ll be waiting.” Will leaves, and Hannibal stands there as the van pulls out of the driveway. Hannibal removes himself from the counter and starts inspecting the thermos’. There’s no more engravings or stickers on them. Hannibal turns his sights on the mugs. Hannibal hears a yip and looks down to see Buster wagging his tail at him.

“I’m simply winter cleaning. You’ll be my alibi, won’t you, Buster? Will mentioned once you were a troublemaker.” The mutt barks without understanding. Hannibal grins, taking out a paper bag and giving Buster a treat.

“Very good.” Hannibal looks back at the mugs, humming as he starts to inspect them one by one.

…

Will and James are cleaning off the table first. Rotten food and flies go really well together. 

“What did you see when you imagined this time?” James looks up at Will, shoving food into a bio bag.

“He was the guest of honor, and he killed the mother last.” Will monotonously replies. Removing plates from the table.

“They had a son, right? Wondering if he’s okay, apparently he was taken in an RV.” James finished his bag as Will finished his. They both tie it up and place it into a biohazard bin.

“Euch, this one’s full. I’ll use the other one. Be a doll and wheel this to the truck.” James sweetly asked. Will grumbles but closes the lid and wheeled it out. He was in the back of the van in the driveway. Then Will heard a heavy car pass. He peeked out from his car sandwich to see an RV driving down the suburban street, moving past the dumpster in the narrow road. Will pauses and looks at it, watching it go past. Will slowly goes back inside, finding James proud that he finally cleared the table.

“Alright, so the table set and a bunch of floors are going in the dumpster in the front. Boss Barney sourced it out again, so that’s fun.” James grumbled. Will smiled from underneath his mask, for as much as James talked, he hated talking business.

“Has Barney talked to you about not gutting the bed yet?” Will watches James roll his eyes, spraying down the bloody table and watching it start to break down the blood.

“He barely let me hand in the stupid therapist papers before going down my throat. There wasn’t any soaked blood on the mattress! He scheduled me for a pigeon poop clean up out of spite.” James grumbled. Will allowed a snort through his mask, which made James glare.

“Spray your side. The grandparents want all the pictures. They just so happen to have blood on them.” James waved. As the spray worked, they started wiping everything down. After another bio bin was full, Will wheeled it out and left James with their last one. Will put the container in the van, and once again, the RV drove past. This time Will went back inside the house and stood in the foyer.

“James, I don’t mean to alarm you, but the same RV has driven past the house two times already, maybe more since we were cleaning.” He heard a bottle drop and the sound of gloves being taken off.

“We’re not playing this game. I’m calling Crawford right now, and he has to supervise all our fucking work.”

“It might be my paranoia—“

“Nope. Not taking any chances. You’ve had bad juju since Minnesota. That kid was kidnapped in an RV. This is a crime scene in the suburbs, not an RV camp.” Will watches James storm out past him. He walks to the front porch and listens to James’ call.

“Hi, this is the Post Mortem crew that’s cleaning your most recent crime scene. We’ve had an RV circle around the house twice now, and it’s the same one too. So please send someone over to at least supervise. I would not like a crime scene on top of one. Thank you.” James hangs up and looks at Will.

“Dress your ass down; we’re not doing shit until the FBI babysitter comes here.” Will wheels out the last bio bin so he can use it as gear disposal. James follows suit. He stands by the van with his arms crossed, looking at the street. The RV doesn’t pass a third time when a police car shows up, parking behind the truck. The officer rolls down the window, looking ticked off.

“Agent Crawford asked me to monitor you both. Said there was some suspicious RV?” The officer gives. James walks over, his arms crossed.

“Yes, we’re cautious since this was just an active scene. Apparently, an RV was involved in the missing cases.” James snaps. The officer looks unimpressed but dutifully stays in place. The duo walks back into the house after gearing up, dragging the bio bin int.

“On the bright side, the chemicals definitely worked. Let's wipe it all down and just hurry up. I want to be here as much as mister officer out there.” James grumbles. Will silently agrees and grabs a paper towel. As he crouches down to get the chairs, he gets a glimpse of the black horned creature underneath the table. He barely contains his horror, watching its bones crunch as it contorts itself into a smaller version of itself. Will stands up and pulls the chair out, masking moving it for the creature to crawl out to get a better clean. The beast stumbles around before pointing at a picture when Will moves around the chair and looks at it.

“Is this the mother and son?” He questioned, picking up the picture. He looks at the creature, looking at the blank face of the son. Will turns his eyes back to the image. He decides as James complains about wiping, maybe he should really go into boat motors. Maybe move to Florida, somewhere warm and away from the creatures lingering at crime scenes.

  
  


…

  
  


Will is sitting at the kitchen island as Hannibal prepares them for a small meal. Abigail is unable to come due to Alana insisting she needs to focus on her therapy. Will has a hand underneath his chin and is leaning on the counter.

“Will you tell me about your mother?” Hannibal inquires. Will laughs at the question. He wonders if Hannibal was looking for the perfect opportunity to spring a family-based question onto Will. The oven dings in the delight of reaching the desired temperature.

“That’s some lazy psychiatry, Dr. Lecter. Very generic.” Will smiles, Hannibal glances back at him from the sink.

“I’m curious about you. You’re very mysterious.” Hannibal admits. Will snorts, grabbing the cup of coffee Hannibal made for him. He almost moans at the delicious taste, no extra burnt flavor.

“I should be saying that to you; however, I’ll indulge you.” Will places the cup down, straightening his body posture. 

“I never knew her, took off in the night.”

Hannibal finishes washing the two sweet potatoes, moves them to the cutting board, pat dry them, and covers them with tin foil. Will watches the movement in awe. He pokes holes in the tin foil, then takes the two and turns around, placing them on a baking sheet.

“How about your parents? Do they live in a bigger mansion than you?” Will inquires. A brief pause as he picks up the sheet, Hannibal looks up.

“They died when I was young. I lived as an orphan until I was adopted by my uncle Robertas when I was 16.” 

  
Will shrinks down slightly, rubbing his neck subconsciously.

“I feel like an ass now….” Wil mutters.

“Don’t, if it makes you feel better, they’re near a castle. How’s your father? I don’t recall you mentioning you were also an orphan.” Hannibal puts the sheet into the oven, setting a timer before going to the actual meal. Will stops rubbing, shifting uncomfortably in the chair he’s in.

“He’s living in a boathouse in Louisiana last time I checked. Daddy, don’t like the city.” His old accent slipped into the conversation. Hannibal continues preparing an almost finished Boudin Noir skillfully.

“I’m surprised you don’t also live in a boathouse. Do you not like the swamp?” Hannibal inquires. Will shakes his head, watching the performance that is Hannibal cooking.

“Naw, it’s the gators.” Will makes a face, possibly figuring out he slipped into an accent. Hannibal smiles at him. 

“Family is, for me, a foreign concept. You can judge by how little I talk or visit my father.” Will rested his hand under his chin again.

“But you have a family, it’s a collected family, but you love it all the same.” Hannibal chuckles, grabbing plates to serve them the meal at the table.

“Thank you for taking care of them when I was away.” Will got up from the chair. He had helped Hannibal set the table beforehand. Hannibal urged him to sit down before he was served. Hannibal came back with two plates and set them down.

“A modified Boudin Noir.” Hannibal put the last of the garnish on both plates before sitting down. Hannibal covers his lap, and Will copies him.

“I was referring to Abigail and me,” Hannibal says after settling. Will pauses his hands that reached for the utensils. He nods slowly before picking them up and using it to stab meat.

“What’s this?” Hannibal glances over at Will.

“Rabbit.”

“Should’ve hopped faster.”

“Yes, he should have. Fortunately for us, he did not.” Hannibal laughs, Will smiles and laughs along with him. A sinister feeling creeps up Will’s spine. He forces another bite to will the pressure away.

“Can you tell me more about your father? I'm curious about the man that raised Will Graham.” Hannibal takes a neat sip of wine while looking over the glass at Will. Will squints his eyes at him, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“You’re tricking me into revealing more about myself. That’s quite sneaky, Dr. Lecter.” Will teases, Hannibal offers a smile when his wine glass is placed down. Will chew on a piece of rabbit, thinking about what to say.

“We moved around a lot, following water paths to boatyard after boatyard, but we were still poor.” Will takes another big bite, chewing as he lowered his gaze to the plate. 

“Always the stranger in town?” Will frowns at Hannibal’s statement. His eye twitched from an unknown irritation.

“Always,” Will admits softly. Hannibal sighs softly.

“I apologize if I brought up any bad memories.” Hannibal pours his sincerity into each word. Will shakes his head, his hair coming loose in some places.

“Truthfully, one of the only good things I remember is my father sticking up for me to the school.” Will sighs. Will forces himself to eat despite his body protesting otherwise.

“I had nasty bullies during my last four years. They were pretty relentless with their torture. I remember telling my father about it when it peaked, and he stormed into the building, cussin’ up a storm. I’m sure they almost called the cops because they thought he was about to sock the whole alumni.” Will gives a short laugh, moving his hair back. Hannibal finds himself entranced by the man in front of him.

“That night, he gave me my first glass of whiskey, and we sat on the porch together. I remember him stopping me before I went to bed. ‘I don’t care if you’re gay or whatever they call it. Just make sure they don’t leave you broken’.” Will mimicked his father’s gruff voice before laughing, smiling at the plate. Will looks up at Hannibal, making sure they hold eye contact.

“I’ve been hurt before Hannibal, but no one has broken me before,” Will tells him earnestly. Hannibal offers a predatory smile.

“I’ll make sure that never happens.” It’s then that Hannibal decides if he had to choose, he would eat Will’s heart. 

“After we finish, I’ll give you a show of dessert.” Will smiles and eats while Hannibal thinks to prepare the Japanese Sweet Potato dessert he planned for them.

  
  


…

  
  


After their Thanksgiving together, Hannibal continues to visit the house on Sunday afternoons. It took Will almost a week to notice that he’s missing quite a few mugs when he does an inventory check. Hannibal is currently sitting at the kitchen table while Buster wags his tail viciously at him. Will is in the kitchen, eyes squinted, and arms crossed.

“You mean to tell me that Buster broke half my mugs because you took them out because you heard scratching in the walls? In the cupboard?” Will interrogates. Hannibal nods, reaching down to pet Buster, who almost started barking for attention.

“Yes, as you can see, he’s quite attached to me. I pulled a step ladder over and had left the treats on the counter, where I started to take out the mugs. I’m sure you can assume what he wanted when I stepped off the step ladder.”   
  


Will looked down at Buster, watching as Hannibal took his hand away. The tiny dog scratched at him desperately. Hannibal made a face before petting him again.

“I suspect he was extremely neglected in his previous home, he was really attached to me, but it seems he likes you now. I haven’t broken him out of his habit of scratching for more pets.” Will shakes his head, waving a hand. Will closes the cupboard after grabbing a cup, quick starting up the coffee maker.

“Alright, I’ll believe you. You owe me cups, however, since they broke on your watch.” 

Hannibal shooed away Buster, getting up and walking over to stand next to Will.

“Will you be home for Christmas?” Hannibal asked. He turned to block Will from walking past him. Will looks over at Hannibal unamused.

“That’d be a Christmas miracle. They have me on overtime, lots of suicides during holiday seasons, how about you?” Will quizzes.

“I leave Christmas eve, Christmas, new years eve, and new years closed. However, patients do have more demands during holidays.”   
  


Will takes the coffee pot and fills his cup. Hannibal subtly sniffs to the air, displeased.

“I’ll try. I can’t promise anything. I only barely managed Thanksgiving.” Will sips his coffee while turning to look at Hannibal. They hold each other gazes before a bark makes them look down. Buster whimpers at the pair, circling. Will moves around Hannibal and lets the dogs out, watching them run from the doorway.

“I’ll prepare you an appropriate gift.” Will looks back, a smile on his lips.

“You’ve got one already, haven’t you? Of course, you prepare everything…” Hannibal hums in content. They both fall into a comfortable silence as the dogs come back inside, and they sit at the dinner table. Hannibal watches Will finish his coffee.

“Just don’t go overboard. I’m already uncomfortable with knowing you already got a gift for me.”

“It wasn’t my intention. I was simply excited about our friendship.”   
  


Will raises an eyebrow but shrugs.

“Alright, don’t get run over by a reindeer before Christmas.” Will gives him another shining smile, and he chuckles in response.

…

It was Christmas morning, and he got called, saying there was another crime scene. It wasn’t even the afternoon yet, and someone was murdered on Christmas. James drove him to the location, looking at him every so often.

“I would call him now… You seemed excited when you got your gifts for those two. It’s going to be a long one, and a chimney needs a clean.” James gently said.

“How about you? Did you have any plans? Come to think of it; you haven’t said anything about your personal life since we’ve been working together.”   
  


James gave a short laugh of shock, his hands flexing on the wheel.

“Woah there, Mongoose, I’m not a snake to attack. These people didn’t choose to die on Christmas.” Will sighs, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just…”

“Disappointed? Accidentally broke a promise? Hyped yourself up, and now you crashed?” James listed the reasons. Will cringed but nodded in response.

“I’ll call him.” Silence fell on the two as the GPS monotonously gave directions.

“What did you have planned?” Will questions, less aggressive this time.

“Just a quiet Christmas. My romantic planned for the night rather than the day. They know I dislike morning stuff.” James said softly. Will listened, calming down slightly.

“Hannibal wasn’t having a party, but he had the afternoon planned for us. He got me presents before knowing I was going to come.” Will mutters. James smiles over at him, turning into the suburban street.

“If he’s truly your friend or whatever you want to label, Dr. _Hannibal_ … He’ll understand that your job hates romance.” James slightly teases. Will grins, they pull into the driveway, and he grabs his phone.

“I’ll do the intake. You talk to your European dream boat.”   
  


Will watches him grab a mask and gloves and exit the vehicle. Will opens his phone and clicks on Hannibal’s name. It only takes one or two rings until Hannibal picks up.

“How’re you, dear Will?” 

“I’m good. I have to inform you that murderers have unfortunate timing. I got called out to one in-state this morning.” He hears the faint sound of a cup being placed on the counter. “It seems our Christmas has been postponed,”

Hannibal says in a slightly disappointed voice that causes Will’s stomach to drop a little.

“I’m sorry.” Will mumbles.

“No, don’t apologize. I’ll simply wait until you’re done. You’ll have to stay the night to remedy our lost time.” Will blinks in confusion.

“Did...Did you just invite me to stay the night? At your home?” Will questions. Hannibal gives a purr of a laugh.

“Yes, I assume a neighbor can take care of the dogs for a night?” Will nods dumbly before realizing they were talking over the phone.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, that can work. I have a bag and the presents in the car anyway. They won’t be fancy clothes.” 

  
Hannibal’s chuckle rumbles through the speakers.

“I’ll be dressed down also tonight. I’ll be waiting for you. Farewell, sweet William.” Hannibal hangs up, and Will takes his phone away from his ear and looks at it. Will texts his neighbors and gets a confirmation that the dogs will be taken care of. Will puts his phone away and gets out of the car, putting on his gear as James comes back.

“What’s the verdict?”

“I’m staying the night.” James promptly walks over and slaps his back.

“That’s my boy.” He wipes a fake tear from his eyes, and Will shoves him slightly.

  
  


…

  
  


After they clean up the crime scene, just hours before sunset, Will gets driven back home. He takes a quick but sanitary shower before dressing in a blue sweater, grey slacks, and outdoor shoes. Will plays with his hair in the mirror as well as trim his beard. Will says goodbye to his dogs, filling their food dishes and water. He puts on his jacket, gets into his car, and drives to Hannibal’s. Will parks in the driveway, grabbing the two boxes from the passenger seat before getting out and walking up to the house. Will knocks on the door; Hannibal answers the door dressed down, or just without a suit jacket to match, with an apron around his waist. The smell of sausage and eggs follows him.

“That’s an interesting Christmas dinner.” Will smiles. Hannibal mirrors it, stepping to the side to let him in. Will observes they can keep their shoes on and does so. He takes off his coat, carefully juggling the Christmas presents in each hand.

“Yes, Abigail requested it.” Will pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“Alana allowed you to check her out?” Will’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Abigail convinced me, her hospital allowed it.” 

Will frowns at his response, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion.

“Hannibal—“

“Will!” Abigail giggles. She rushes over and hugs Will, Will kept his arms open, still giving Hannibal a side-eye as he turns his smile on Abigail.

“Hi Abigail, sorry, I’m late. I brought presents for after dinner.” Abigail giggles again. She nuzzled him before letting go and making her way to the dining room. Will gives Hannibal a proper glare this time.

“I gave her half a Valium to ease her stress.”

“Hannibal, I’ve been in college before. What kind of edible have you given her?” Will crosses his arms. Hannibal closes the door, wiping his hands on the apron he’s still wearing.

“Psilocybin mushrooms.” Hannibal offers.

“As long as you’re keeping her from tripping badly.” He sighs, removing his glare from Hannibal. Hannibal takes the presents from Will and places them in the parlor room. Will, Abigail, and Hannibal eventually sit at the dining room table that Hannibal set with sausage and eggs in bagels. Will looks over to Abigail, who’s still under the effect of the drug Hannibal served her.

“Will Alana come for Abigail?” Will asks Hannibal before their meal. Hannibal smiles softly.

“Let’s worry about that later.” It’s not an answer Will wants, but it’s the only one he gets. Abigail gives him a bright smile.

“Are you hungry? Hannibal made breakfast for dinner.” 

Hannibal reaches over to fill their glasses with orange juice.

“I didn’t have a proper meal today. I’m starving,” Will admits. Abigail continues smiling at them blankly. Hannibal turns to look over at her.

“What is it? Abigail?” The concern lingering in his words. Will slowly understands she’s hallucinating on whatever drug she took.

“What do you see?” Will asks. Hannibal gives him a look through the side of his eye. Abigail puts on a bright smile for them.

“I see family.” She whispered enchanted. Hannibal smiles, and Will finds himself smiling along with them all.

“Let’s eat,” Hannibal hurries. The trio of them eat in relative silence, the sound of silverware on glass or a soft gulp of orange juice interrupting it. After finishing, Hannibal gets up first.

“Why don’t you two go into the parlor room? I’ll join you soon.” Will nods, getting up and helping Abigail out of the chair. She leans on him as they walk together to the parlor room couch, sitting down next to each other, Abigail hugging his side for comfort.

“I hope you both don’t mind how few presents I have to give you, next year I hope to spoil you,” Hannibal says as he walks in, sitting down on the chair adjacent to the couch.

“I think I should be saying that.” Will laughs. He reaches over with the teenager still attached and gets the presents off the coffee table. He hands a red wrapped one to Hannibal and a blue wrapped one to Abigail. Abigail leans on Will as she opens her present, careful about the paper. She gasps, giggling as she looks at it.

“Fly fishing? Thank you!” She exclaims. Will rubs her shoulder in an improvised hug.

“I’m glad you like it, Hannibal how about—“

“It’s beautiful,” Hannibal whispers. Will had debated for hours about what kind of cufflinks to get Hannibal. It was the safest option for a gift. He ended up getting white 14K gold red ruby cufflinks for Hannibal in the end. 

“I didn’t know what kind of gift to get you… I would’ve gotten you a tie, but you're all made from silk.” Will says shyly. Hannibal looks up from the gift and to Will.

“You’re very observant. I must inform you that you might feel overwhelmed by my gifts.” 

Will’s face switched from shy to confusion.

“H...How many gifts did you buy me, Hannibal?” 

Hannibal silently closes the box and places it on the chair’s arm, getting up and walking over to the tree. 

“Hannibal…” Will warns. The man started to take out presents for Will and Abigail.

“Hannibal!” Will yells this time in disbelief.

“I was compelled to spoil you slightly for this holiday.” Hannibal defends. Will looks at him with a blank stare. After setting their presents for each of the brunettes on the coffee table to be opened, Will simply gave Hannibal a death glare.

“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t go overboard,” Will says stiffly. Hannibal avoids his eyes like a scolded puppy.

“I did inform you I was excited.” 

Abigail breaks the tension by opening another gift. Hannibal swiftly leaves to get a garbage bag for the wrapping. Hannibal cleans it up as the wrapping paper falls.

“These scarfs are so soft!” Abigail has the first box open as she’s gently rubbing the contents.

“Did you get me more clothes?” She whispers sneakily to Hannibal. Hannibal smiles at her.

“Open the rest to find out.” Abigail makes haste. The final tally is 2 books on poetry, a box of 4 scarves, a purple cashmere sweater, a laptop, a sleep mask, a set of purple pajamas, another pack of 4 scarves but patterned, expensive hand cream, a personalized apron, and a journal. Will eyed the gifts as Abigail bobbed her head in approval at each one, thanking Hannibal profusely. Abigail finally leaned on Will and started to close her eyes. Hannibal swiftly walked over and guided her up.

“I’m tired,” Abigail complained. Will stood up, but Hannibal gave him a reassuring smile.

“Relax, sweet Will. I’ll lay her down in a guest room. We’ll open your gifts when I come back.” Hannibal decided. Will sits back down, glaring at the gift mountain. Will was sure that there was a set of mugs somewhere inside the pile. Hannibal walked back in and stood next to a cellarette. 

“Would you like a nightcap?” Hannibal asks, Will blinked, looking over to Hannibal.

“Any whiskey? No ice.”   
  


Hannibal nods, smiling. He took out a white bottle and two whiskey glasses. He opens a hidden ice chest in the cellarette and takes out a mold. Hannibal opens it effortlessly and places a neat ball inside one, and places the mold back. Hannibal pours two fingers of the whiskey into the glasses and puts the bottle away before walking over. He sits down in the spot that Abigail previously held, handing Will his glass.

“Glenfiddich Winter Storm Whiskey. Aged for 21 years in a french oak icewine cask.” Hannibal wants to tell Will more about how the whiskey finished with eiswein is created but keeps silent. Will takes a sip, a blissful expression on his face.

“This is really good. It almost makes me forgive you.” Will tells him. Hannibal sips his own glass, waving a hand.

“I’ll serve more after presents.” Hannibal teases. Will rolls his eyes and places the glass on a coaster, and grabs the smallest box. He carefully opens it; he looks surprised.

“Fly fishing hooks?” Will asked.

“Aluminum, no rust.” Hannibal supplies. Will inspected the box, seeing a logo on the container holding the hooks.

“Tommy’s Metal Work? I’ll have to check them out if they make hooks.” Will smiles as he places the box next to him. He grabs a long box and unwraps it, blinking in surprise.

“7 thermos’... No, Hannibal, you did not!” Will laughs in disbelief, seeing that each thermos was plaid with each of his dog’s coat colors with their names on the coordinated thermos. Hannibal smiles into his glass, and Will excited places it down and goes to the next presents. Will opens a neat box with 7 themed dog mugs, then the divine comedy series, a fancy coffee maker, and a bottle of fancy Whiskey. 

“You spoiled me, Hannibal. We’ve only known each other for three months.” Will scolds, a nervous tremor weaving his voice. Hannibal sips his whiskey, and he nods over to the last present sitting alone on the table.

“You’re not done yet.” Hannibal points out. Will sighs, reaching over and placing the box on his lap. It’s lighter than most of the gifts he was given. He opens the box, pausing in between to throw back the last of his whiskey, and lifts the lid of it.

“A… tux? When did you get my measurements?” Will questions incredulously. Hannibal wordlessly gets up and takes both glasses with him, filling them with another two fingers of whiskey. He hands Will back the glass, then he reaches into his breast pocket, takes out two tickets, and hands them over. Will looks at them.

“You’re inviting me to the opera? This seems a little intimate, Hannibal.”

“That’s exactly why.” Hannibal sits down, and suddenly Will’s aware of how close they are. Hannibal’s eyes look at his lips briefly.

“Hannibal…”

Sweet William…”

“Hannibal!” A yell breaks the moment. Will turns away sharply, picking up his glass and keeping it by his lips. His cheeks bright red, reeling from his actions. Hannibal gives a deep sigh, placing his glass down and getting up. Will sneaks a look at his back when he leaves. He silently ties the garbage bag closed. He fiddles with the gifts nervously, putting them in a neat pile on the coffee table, looking at the opera tickets with a smile.

“As someone who makes such a big deal about common courtesy, I’m taken aback by the blatant disrespect that you would take my patients. My patient! Out of the hospital without my permission.” Alana’s voice echoed through the house. Will dampened his smile when he hears how upset she is.

“I’m sorry.”

“Rude! Shockingly rude!”   
  


Will looks over to the corner, seeing another antlered void like creature cracking its bones. It looks like it’s restraining itself, Will takes another long sip of whiskey, trying to send it away.

“You deserve to be upset. I overstepped my bounds.” Hannibal offers a soft apology.

“Where is she?” Alana asks, her anger still steaming from her words.

“Asleep, upstairs.” Hannibal brings Alana into the parlor room. Will gives her a wide-eyed look. As if he was caught doing something wrong. Alana blinked, her head moving with it as if she was just insulted.

“Will. Pleasant to see you. I didn’t notice your car.” Alana tersely said. Will pockets the opera tickets to feel less guilty.

“The hospital should get the same lecture.” Alana scoffs, crossing her arms and taking a seat next to Will.

“I assure you, they did.” Alana grumbles.

“A drink?” Hannibal offers.

“No.” Alana responds. The air is tense and uncomfortable. Hannibal walks over to the tree and pulls out a bag with Alana’s name on it.

“What’s this?”

“Your present this year. Did Will send you one?”

“I send her the same gift every year through mail.” Will answers. Alana opens the bag to see two small kegs of beer in it.

“Thank you. Also, thank you, Will. I hope you like that aftershave.” 

Will snorts, Alana smiles at him. She glances at Hannibal, watching him sit down as she turns her full attention to Will.

“What did you get?” 

Will happily shows her to ease the tension between the two psychiatrists. After he finished showing off his presents, Alana gets up and grabs her bag.

“Alright, I see that everything is in order here. Hannibal, I’m disappointed in you still. Don’t pull this stunt again. Will, merry Christmas and have fun.” 

Hannibal escorts her back to the front door. No arguments happen this time, so Will takes it as a win. Hannibal comes back, finishing off his glass, and Will chuckles.

“I’ll go to the opera with you. Did pick February 14th intentionally?” Will asks. Hannibal gives a small surprised hum.

“It didn’t register.” Hannibals flawlessly replies as Will raises an eyebrow.

“We’ll see.” Will finishes his glass, outstretching hand with the empty glass. Hannibal takes the glass, making sure to take Will’s hand in his after. Hannibal coax’s Will with a tug to stand up.

“Let me guide you to bed.” 

Will follows Hannibal as the man continues holding his hand until they reach the room. Hannibal lets go when they reach their destination. Will has the feeling of emptiness ache inside the pit of his stomach.

“Will you wish me goodnight?” Will whispers. Hannibal retakes his hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Hannibal leaves a tender kiss on them, and Will finds himself memorized with the action in front of him. Hannibal lets go again, a sly smile on his lips, sharp teeth glinting in the hallway light.

“Goodnight, Will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact; Buster scratching for more pets was inspired by one of my dogs. She'll start scratching at you the second your hand is away. She went through a neglectful/abusive situation, so any affection she gets doesn't want it to stop. We love her much, and she does get plenty of pets!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will starts his sleepwalking episodes, so Hannibal proposes an easy solution for them. However, Will finds out that Hannibal's solutions aren't aligned with what he expects.

Will cannot spend New Years or its eve with Hannibal due to being thrusted into jobs left and right. After doing a grueling hoarding job today, it had bugs crawling down every wall and crevice. Will was sure a bug or two had cozied up in his boots. He drove home to take a long shower. Will ended up sleeping fresh out of the shower after putting his pajamas on, not bothering even to dry his hair, lying down. He felt a sharp sting of pain behind his eyes. After groaning uncomfortably, Will turned over with a pillow over his head forced himself to sleep it off.

Will is only aware of two facts when he wakes up that he’s not alone, and he’s cold. It feels like feathers brushing against the back of his arm when the creature leans forward; it’s cold nose touching his hand tenderly. Flashing lights come into his vision in the dark. They’re blurry at first, then it focuses. A single police car comes down the street towards him. Will lifts a hand to block the light. Two officers step out of their car and approach him.

“Lost?” A portly officer asks. Will blinks to adjust his eyes, being blinded by a flashlight.

“Sorry, what?” Will asks, his voice rough with sleep.

“Your name?” The officers’ tone is more annoyed this time.

“Will Graham.”

“Mr. Graham, do you know where you are?” Will takes a quick look side to side, his breathing picking up slightly.

“No. W...Where am I?” The portly officer nods slowly, and the lean officer seems to have his hand on his gun.

“Wolf Trap, Virginia.” Will’s breathing slows down at the news. Knowing he’s still in his town.

“I live here. Can you drive me back?” Will asks. The officer brings up his flashlight to flash it down. Will looks down to see Winston looking up at him.

“Is that yours or…” Will nods, reaching out to pet Winston’s soft head. A smile was stretching on his lips.

“Yes, he’s my plus one.” The officers escort Will into the back of the police car with Winston following. They give him a blanket to stop hypothermia from catching him.

“Are you on any drugs? Perscription or otherwise? Any alcohol?” Will shakes his head, wrapping himself tightly.

“No. I don’t have any drugs, but I drink alcohol recreationally mostly. I didn’t drink tonight.” The officers flex his finger on the door, trying to figure out Will.

“History of sleepwalking?” Will runs his fingers through Winston’s fur for comfort.

“No, I’m not entirely sure I’m awake now. Can I go home to make a call?” Will asks. He licks his lips nervously.

“Alright.” The officer taps the door again, and the lean officer rolls up the window. They start driving towards Will’s house. It takes a few minutes, but they drop Will off. Will stumbles into his home, quickly checking if all the dogs are inside before grabbing his phone. Will presses the one name he called when feeling stressed.

“Yes, Will?”

“I sleepwalked down the road. Can you come over? Actually, don't it’s too late, just…”

“I’ll be coming over now. We’ll discuss more when I get there.” Hannibal said softly. 

“...Alright.” Hannibal hangs up. Will reluctantly turns on his living room lights and sits at the dinner table with Winston laying his head into his lap. Will watches and waits for Hannibal’s car to pull up into his driveway. Hannibal opens the door showing off his casual outfit of a red sweater, slacks, loafers, and a jacket for the cold.

“Hey.” Will looks at Hannibal. The man takes in his exhausted appearance and makes a decision.

“A cup of coffee, perhaps?” Hannibal suggests, walking over to the new coffee maker. Will had been forced to throw out his old coffee maker due to Hannibal’s gift. Will says goodbye to “Kyle,” the coffee maker, a faithful companion through college. Hannibal walks back to him with a fresh cup. Will takes a long drink from it. Will must admit that not tasting burnt beans in a nice touch.

“How do you like coffee?” Hannibal asks. Will is broken out of his coffee daydream to side-eye Hannibal.

“Will you take a cup from it now?” Will counters. Hannibal gives him a blank smile. That’s a no in Hannibal terms. Will wonders if Hannibal would bring his own roast to spite Will’s cheap one. Hannibal sits down across from him, taking off his jacket.

“Will?” Hannibal asks. Will hums, exhausted.

“Did you dream of anything while you slept?” Will ponders to tell him about the ravenstag that has been appearing in more nightmares as of late.

“I don’t remember anything. The cops pulled me out of the middle of the street with Winston following me.” Will tells him instead.

“That’s concerning. It might be due to stress if you have no history of sleepwalking previously. I suggest you stay with me to monitor your condition.” Hannibal offers. Will’s cheeks tint red.

“Hannibal, I can’t just… impose on your life. I’ll lock my doors from now on.” Will waves a dismissive hand as he explains. He looks at his hand and places it back down self consciously. Hannibal watches him before his eyes flick back to his door.

“You don’t lock your doors?” Will starts to feel like Hannibal is gearing up to scold him.

“No one breaks into a home in Wolf Trap, plus my dogs are my alarm system.” Hannibal turns his head to look at the “alarm system” that didn’t even raise their heads to Hannibal when he walked in.

“I see…”

“You don’t believe me one bit, do you?”

“Not at all,” Hannibal replies bluntly. Will hisses at the sting of his quick reply. 

“I’m kindly asking you to take at least a week off of work. We’ll arrange for your dogs to be taken care of. Wandering down a road, _in winter,_ with nothing but boxers and a shirt is deeply concerning. As your friend, I’m worried about you.” Will runs a hand through his hair, sighing. Will looks up at the ceiling for a while before making a decision.

“I’ll tell the boss to cash in my contract promised vacation time. I feel bad, leaving James alone.”

“Focus on your health first. James is a grown man. He can handle himself.” Will snorts at that.

“He almost cries when bugs move from behind a hiding spot.” Will laughs at the grimace Hannibal has when he mentions the ugly parts of his work. Will can’t imagine what more expressions Hannibal would offer if he told him the nastiest jobs.

“I don’t blame him,” Hannibal replies. Will laughs at this before looking at his phone, checking the time.

“Will you stay awake with me?”

“Of course, dear Will.” Will went quiet; his face still tinted red as he pets Winston. 

“Email Barney. I promise my coffee will be a much better roast.” Hannibal and Will get up, Will goes over to his laptop on the coffee table, sitting on the edge of his bed before booting it up. Hannibal goes and fills Will’s cup with coffee before placing it on the table and sitting next to him. Hannibal takes in the dim light hitting Will, making him look more brooding than he was. Hannibal wondered how wonderful Will would look under total despair. His handsome face contorted at sight ghastly enough to shatter his soul. Hannibal faintly remembers Lady Murasaki talking about Kintsugi, fixing broken pottery with lacquer powdered with various metals such as gold.

“It’s almost done. May you redirect your stare to somewhere else? It’s making me nervous.” Oh, this rude, beautiful boy next to him. Hannibal gives him a brilliant smile and looks away at his request. Hannibal caught a faint scent of fever before the overwhelming smell of dogs smothered it.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Will was forced to pack a more oversized bag than he was planning. Hannibal insisted on arranging a dog sitter for Will, which happened to be Alana and an acquaintance of Alana’s named Beverly. Will was forced to face the reality that he had too many dogs as they rode in Hannibal’s car. Will never planned for so many dogs in his house, honestly.

“How did you come to have so many dogs?” Will hums at his question. He assumes Hannibal thinks he’s just walking around with a treat bag taking any dog off the street.

“They’re strays, but I’m fostering for most of them. Underbite, Winston, and your favorite dog Buster are mine by paperwork.” Will explains, somewhat embarrassed. Hannibal glances over at him, surprise on his face.

“I had assumed they were all yours. Has anyone offered to adopt your four fosters?” Hannibal asked curiously.

“Yes, but they usually fall through for a younger dog.” Hannibal taps the steering wheel. Will grins as he looks over.

“If you have anyone interested in a foster dog that is trained, make sure to direct them to the Wolf Trap Shelter site.” Will puts on his customer service voice, which made Hannibal chuckle.

“I’ll check my associates. Would you like breakfast too, or did that processed sausage sandwich satisfy you?” Hannibal asked. Will blushed.

“How’d you know I stopped before coming?” Will asked, defensive. Hannibal poured himself a personal cup of coffee and took his own long sip.

“The smell of processed food is overwhelming. I’m sure your car soaked the smell in as well.” Will brings a clothed arm close to sniff himself self consciously and finds that Hannibal is, in fact, right. He places his arm down and drinks his coffee with a sour expression.

“Shall we talk about your sleepwalking?” Hannibal asks. Will doesn’t even hide the glare he gives to Hannibal.

“Sleepwalk, as an adult, is rare. It’s more common in children.” Hannibal explains eloquently.

“It might be post-traumatic stress. You’ve gotten your hands dirty in Minnesota.” Will listens, turning on his feet as he sips his coffee.

“You said I was of sound mind. You rubber-stamped me, Hannibal.” Will reminds. Hannibal pauses his hand before he takes another sip of coffee. Hannibal places his coffee back down to observe Will. Hannibal watches as the younger man shifted under his gaze, uncomfortably as if he’s going to scold Will.

“I’m hosting a dinner party soon. Will you attend as my guest?” Will sipped his coffee to avoid the question; he furrowed his eyebrows when Hannibal simply waited for him to drink.

“When?”

“A week from now.”

“Can’t, James’ birthday is next week. I’m invited to bring his favorite margarita mix.” Hannibal takes another sip of coffee. He hums and grins.

“It’s a month from now then. I’ll attend James’s birthday with you.” Will could’ve spat his coffee out. Will stared at Hannibal’s face for a long time.

“Why?” 

“You’re sleepwalking now; I want to keep an eye on you.” Hannibal smiles. Will places the coffee cup down, lifting a finger to point at Hannibal accusingly.

“You’ll just put off your dinner party like that? Alana tells me they’re a rare sight. Hannibal’s fingers tightened around his cup briefly before relaxing. Alana and Will weren’t romantically involved, but it didn’t mean they weren’t close. Hannibal looked over his cup to watch Will again; Will had the same red tint on him every time an intimate moment like this happened. Hannibal smiles, and his cup joins the one on the counter.

“My office is for patients, and my kitchen is for friends. You’ve been to both multiple times so far. But you’re no longer my patient Will; you’re now, my dear friend.” Hannibal confesses. Will looks into Hannibal’s eyes, reading them before a small grin on his face.

“To summarize, you want to attend as my plus one because we’re close friends.” Hannibal blinks. Hannibal wouldn’t necessarily word it that only but he nods regardless. Will would’ve given him another snarky remark or a sharp glare for trying to pepper in his sweet words.

“Yes.” Hannibal holds his gaze. Hannibal watches Will open himself to him more, Will has just shown him the appetizer, and Hannibal is almost salivating for more.

“Yes,” Will repeats in a breathy tone. Hannibal is pained by the pure hunger that courses through him. Hannibal carefully takes in Will swallowing and how his muscles flex in anticipation of his next move.

“I’ll get ready then.” Hannibal forces himself to say. Hannibal quickly finishes his coffee before making his way to his bedroom. Hannibal locks himself in his room and tries to calm his beating heart. 

“Tempting,” Hannibal mumbled to himself. Will was the pure definition of tempting; Hannibal was confident that if Will had moved closer, Hannibal would’ve tried to eat him, kiss him, or maybe harm him. Hannibal needed to control himself before he did something to Will. It would be discourteous to harm a house guest in any capacity.

Juxtaposed, Will was downstairs, reeling from the pure emotion running through him. Will decided washing out the coffee cups could make Hannibal’s life easier. Hence, he gathered his and Hannibal and put them in the sink carefully. After washing both out, he ended up leaning over the sink with a full blush on his cheeks.

“European dreamboat…” James’ teasing voice echoed in his head. Will rubbed a hand over his face. He liked Hannibal, and Hannibal has shown interest in him. They adopted an orphan together, Hannibal spoiled him on Christmas, Abigail called them family, and Hannibal liked his dogs. The man couldn’t be more perfect except for one flaw. Will used to be Hannibal’s patient. Will wanted to bang his head against a wall to be interested in Hannibal and then take his offer for psychiatric help. Will heard soft footsteps coming down the hall, and he turned about and leaned against the sink with a forced smile on his face. Will could almost kick his delirious self for accepting Hannibal’s offer to stay over his house. Hannibal walked in with a neat three-piece suit. Hannibal offered a smile to Will before walking to the fridge and checking the contents.

“I have packed lunch for you. You may eat the breakfast plate I prepared for you or dispose of it. I’ll come back for lunch with you. I’ll come home, and we’ll cook dinner. We’re having guests tonight.” Will nodded along, putting a neutral look on his face as Hannibal closed the fridge. Hannibal glanced down to the ground before looking at Will with sharp eyes.

“The guest bedroom you slept in last time will be where you’re staying. Unpack there.” Hannibal looks around for anything else to say before he straightens his jacket out.

“I’ll see you soon, Will.” 

“Drive safe.” Will waves as Hannibal leaves out the front door with his keys clicking together. Will sighed deeply, holding his head in his hands.

“I dug myself a grave,” Will mutters.

~*~

“Who are the guests?” Will asks as Hannibal prepares the Foie Gras au Torchon. Watching him stir the sauce for it, Hannibal looks up at him. They had a quiet lunch together; Hannibal had prepared a fantastic pork sandwich. Hannibal wanted to show off his skills as a chef once again, not have premade meals that tasted delicious.

“Mister and Missus Crawford. They’re acquaintances of mine. It’s why I urged you to bring that nice blue button-down you hide in your closet.” Hannibal gives him a grin, and Will gives him an unimpressed look.

“Why do I have to join you? It’ll seem like we’re much closer than friends, dining with a married couple.” Will tapped on the countertop; Hannibal moved closer to make a playful chop with his hand to stop Will. The younger man pulled his hand back, looking at Hannibal in mock offense.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter!” Will gasped. Hannibal chuckled, but a doorbell disturbed their playfulness.

“Be a sweetheart and answer the door.” Hannibal gently commanded. Will rubbed his fingers and made his way to the front door. Will opened it, mirroring Hannibal’s behavior that he had witnessed before.

“Hello, I assume you’re the Crawfords—“ Will’s polite smile was replaced with a shocked expression. Jack Crawford has a similar face while his wife looked between the two.

“Know each other?” Mrs. Crawford inquired politely. Will blinked before giving a tense nod.

“Yes, barely. Please come in. Hannibal is finishing up dinner.” Will took their coats and hung them up, and guided them to the dining room. Will sat Jack on the right side while having Bella be placed next to him on the left side. Will’s seat was next to Hannibal on the left. Hannibal had insisted it. 

“Wine?” Will asks. The married couple married, and Will poured each glass on the table half full. After wine, he fills the water cups before peeking into the kitchen.

“Have you’ve finished? Need any assistance?” Wil inquires. Hannibal grand two plates as a waiter would and Will walks over to get the two others similarly.

“Yes, I hope you weren’t too surprised by our guests.” Will’s eye twitched from hidden anger.

“We’ll discuss your surprises later,” Will growled softly. Hannibal smiles as he walks with Will behind him. They both placed the plates down in a similar fashion.

“A foie gras au torchon with a late harvest of Vidal sauce with dried and fresh figs.” Hannibal grins after introducing the dish; Will sits down as Hannibal starts familiarizing himself with the guests.

“Mrs. Crawford, your husband introduced you as Bella. How should I address you?” Hannibal asks. Hannibal slowly pulls his chair out to sit down.

“I’m a Phyllis, but Jack only calls me that when we disagree.” Bella smiles, and Jack and her share a loving look together. Will finds himself jealous of their connection before stopping himself.

“Named Bella for your beauty, I assume.” Jack launched into how he and Bella met Will. He slowly started to eat the food presented to him. Will faintly heard Jack complementing the dish presented. At the same time, Will tried his best to ignore Hannibal’s obvious preening at each compliment given to him.

”Would it be impolite to skip this course?” Bella asks in a soft tone. Will looks over, watching her uncomfortably looking from the dish to Hannibal.

“Too rich?”

“Too cruel.” Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Will shifted in his seat.

“Please don’t worry, Hannibal has an ethical butcher.” Will couldn’t catch the words coming out of his mouth. 

“An ethical butcher? Raise them to eat them?” Bella asks. Hannibal’s eyes bore into Will briefly. Will didn’t catch it, but the feeling of Hannibal’s heavy gaze brushed his neck.

“Hannibal doesn’t like animal cruelty. He even promised to have associates of his adopt my fosters.” Will supplies further. Will coughed before taking a sip of water. Bella gave Will and Hannibal a skeptical look. Bella then turns her gaze over to Hannibal for the final say.

“I’m afraid I insist on it. No need for unnecessary suffering.” Hannibal lifts his wine glass to taste his wine. Hannibal elegantly places it down; Will finds himself unable to take his eyes off him now.

“Emotions are a gift from our animal ancestors. Cruelty is a gift humanity has given itself.” Hannibal stands up and takes the water pitcher from the table.

“A gift that keeps on giving.” Hannibal takes the pitcher and walks behind Bella, pouring her glass. Will watches him. He sees his nostrils give a subtle flare.

“Your perfume smells wonderful… I believe I came across this smell before.” Hannibal gives another whiff from Bella. Will’s nondominant hand went under the table to grip his knee. His knuckles were turning white from the flare of anger rising in him.

“Is it Jar?” Hannibal asks. Bella makes eye contact with Hannibal, surprise filling her expression. 

“That’s some nose you have there, doctor!” Bella exclaims. Will looks back to his plate but follows Hannibal through his peripherals. Will feels Hannibal’s hand slide across his back when he passes, Will almost snaps at him but tries to keep himself together. Hannibal keeps his hand on his back as he refills his water glass.

“My sense of smell is very keen; I was aware that one of my teachers had stomach cancer before he knew.” Hannibal removes himself from Will’s side before refilling the last of the guests' glasses.

“That must’ve been some parlor trick.” Jack chimes, looking at Hannibal, amazed. Will finds himself losing his appetite from the conversion.

“No, just a gift. Will has his own gift if he would like to share.” Will releases the grip on his knee, forcing himself to give a neutral face as he puts down his utensils.

“My thoughts aren’t tasty. It’ll be inappropriate to ruin dinner with them.” Will grits out. Hannibal simply smiles as Will struggles with a violent urge to throw something. Instead, he leans back from his meal, reaching to take his wine cup and take a long drink.

“It’s time for our next course, Dr. Lecter.” Will reminds him before finishing his wine, placing it on the table and giving a fierce glower. Hannibal’s expression remained unchanged.

“Roasted pork shank, with an extra supercilious pig,” Hannibal says proudly. Hannibal retreats into the kitchen to prepare the meal for the presentation.

“Will.” Will puts a polite look. He didn’t want the guests to think he was rude.

“You were with the Hobbs case, correct? You met Hannibal there?” Jack questions. 

“Yes, we became friends after my situation was handled.” Will plays with his fork absentmindedly.

“Jack, don’t bother the man about a crime scene.” Bella scolds. Jack holds his hands up in defeat.

“I was curious! He doesn’t work with me.” Jack defends himself. Bella looks over to Will, curiosity filling her eyes. When Will looked over, all the hatred he had harbored at that moment quietly fell away.

“Oh, I’m a crime scene cleaner or professional cleaner. We mostly clean the unspeakable messes. Only recently, we started a contract with the FBI. They’re not very good cleaners.” Will jokes softly. Bella laughs, looking over to Jack mischievously.

“Do I know it, Jack can barely keep a sock in a laundry basket!”

“Bella!” Jack tries. Will finds he likes Bella immensely, laughing along with her. Will catches Hannibal’s eyes when he returns. A pleased smile was stretching on his stupid face.

“I’m glad you’re all getting along,” Hannibal says. The anger that evaporated is quickly replaced with a simmering temper at Hannibal’s reemergence. It seems like they have something to discuss after dinner alone.

The rest of the dinner goes mundane; Will only speaks when spoken to, which isn’t much. The conversation is only polite small talk until it’s time for the Crawford’s to leave. Hannibal sees out the Crawfords due to Wills's social battery running out. Will stands by the bookcase in Hannibal’s living room; he’s flicking slowly through a book with a vague concept of its contents. Hannibal goes and sits on the couch, legs crossed as he swipes on his iPad.

“You’re upset.” Hannibal pipes up. Will firmly closes the book, placing it back into its place on the shelf.

“Acute observation.” Will's terse reply makes Hannibal place the iPad down, Tattlecrime on full display. 

“Did it start with the guests or when I sniffed Bella?” Will turns around, looking at Hannibal with a scowl.

“I’m upset with you. Did you want me to make a fool out of myself? Say something disturbing so Jack could arrest me? Curious on how shameless you can act before I lash out?” Will fumed, his arms crossing as his expression sharpens.

“It’s not even my first night with you, and I can see we can’t live together,” Will growled. Hannibal calmly listens to him.

“I wanted to show that you’re my close friend.” 

“No, you wanted to show me off.” 

“Will, you aren’t fine china I use for special guests.” Hannibal sighs, he starts to get up, and Will inches to the hallway.

“You don’t completely deny it. I came to your house for a break, at your own insistence, because I was just sleepwalking down the road!” Will argues Hannibal stands with a blank face. Hannibal slowly walks over to Will, each step making the hair rise on Will’s arm.

“I see that the irritation that sleepwalking has given you. Have you had any more of these outbursts? Or is there an underlying issue?” Will turns and starts stomping out of the room in a huff. Hannibal follows behind him; he manages to catch his wrist on the stairs, which Will violently pulls away. Will puts his pointer finger into Hannibal’s chest.

“Don’t psychoanalyze me. You won’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.” Will threatens. Will takes his finger back and continues up the stairs; when he’s at his door is abruptly trapped by two arms caging him into the door frame. Will attempts to turn around, but Hannibal presses his chest into his back, Will hears Hannibal’s soft breathing by his ear. Will looks down to see Hannibal keeping a hand on the doorknob so he couldn’t open it.

“What.” Will snaps.

“It’s not good to go to bed mad at someone,” Hannibal tells him softly. Will shifts to use his hand to try and pry off Hannibal’s grip from the doorknob.

“It only applies if you’re together or married. We…” Will turns his head over his shoulder. Their eyes make contact, and Will glances over Hannibal’s shoulder to see the large horned creature. It looks like a predator about to eat its prey.

“...aren’t together.” Will takes the handoff of the doorknob with little resistance. Will opens the door and steps into the door, hearing Hannibal step back. Will looks down to see Hannibal with only socks on. 

“Goodnight, Dr. Lecter.” Will keeps his eye contact with Hannibal until he closes the door, locking it quietly for good measure. He walks over to the bed and collapses onto it, resisting the urge to scream into the pillows.

~*~

  
  


Hannibal doesn’t bother him in the morning; Will doesn’t come downstairs until he’s positive Hannibal has left. When he walks into the kitchen, he sees covered food for him and a note. Will walks over and picks it up.

“Apologies for my rudeness last night.” It read. Will huffs as he takes the cover off and assesses the pancakes with ham. They’re cold from sitting out, and Will can’t find a microwave anywhere.

“Too posh for a microwave,” Will grumbles, adding it to his list of reasons not to move in with Hannibal. Will brings the plate to the dining room table, sits down on a chair, and stabs into the pancakes violently, not caring about the scratching sound on the glass or when it clinks on his teeth when he bites. Will finishes the meal and forces himself to clean the plate at least. Will’s trapped in Hannibal's home with no car to escape from the man, at the bare minimum, cleaning up after himself is expected.

Will gets his laptop and starts looking at his emails in the living room when he’s done. Will stops when he sees a new article on TattleCrime, his curiosity eggs him on to open the article. The first image Will sees is of two angels kneeling in front of a bed. The pendulum swings, and he wakes up to being watched over by angels. Will watches them form, they don’t deserve to be angels, but Will can’t just let them roam any longer. Their sins burn so brightly that it hurts his eyes.

“Will?” Will gasps as he opens his eyes. Will breathes harshly and looks around. His eyes find Hannibal in a sea of blurriness.

“W...What time is it?” Will chokes, he rubs his throat and starts taking in his surroundings. He’s in the middle of a bed, with his arms were crossed over his chest as well. Will feels his appendages ache from their forced positioning.

“Just after 7:30, I walked into my room to find you lying down.” Will gets up, hissing at the sharp pain his muscles gave him. Will sits on the side of the bed before it registers what Hannibal said.

“Wait, I’m in your room?” Will asks, getting up quickly. Hannibal adjusts his coat on his arm.

“Yes, is there something wrong?” Will looks at Hannibal, searching for something in his eyes before turning away and heading to the door.

“No… What’s for dinner?” Will questions. Hannibal gives him a bright smile.

“I’m making a hearty stew tonight; I’ve been reminiscing about my younger years,” Hannibal says. Will nods slowly before retreating. His footsteps descending the hall before silence.

When Will leaves, Hannibal slowly walks over to the pillow Will used and takes a tentative sniff from it. The spiced scent of a fever caught his nose; a distinct lack of aftershave told Hannibal that he hadn’t shaven today. Judging from Will’s appearance, he had woken up, ate, and then somewhere in between. He moved into Hannibal’s bed. Hannibal sniffed the pillow again and nodded in conformation.

“It’s progressing more than I had planned.” Hannibal pouts, putting the pillow down and closing his door to change into a casual outfit. Hannibal stares at himself in the mirror, recipes flicking through his thoughts before landing on a stew his mother enjoyed. Hannibal grins, eager to feed Will dinner. 

When Hannibal descends downstairs, Will has quickly changed his clothes into more appropriate attire. Will glances up at him from the coffee table as he hunches over his laptop. Hannibal lingers near the doorway but leaves when Will closes his laptop screen. Will takes his laptop back upstairs and puts it away before coming downstairs. Will silently sits on a chair in the corner and watches Hannibal cook.

“Have you ever felt abandoned by Will?” Hannibal starts. Will narrows his eyes towards the liquor cabinet.

“Abandonment requires expectation.” Hannibal adjusts his grip on the knife as he cubes the meat.

“What were your expectations of me?” Will looks over sharply at Hannibal.

“I’m not your patient anymore, Hannibal. I don’t require free therapy.” Will adjusts his sitting position, linking his hands together and glaring at Hannibal.

“Humor me?” Hannibal softly pleads. Will holds his glare until he remembers he’s hungry.

“...Please, Doctor. Proceed.” Will begrudgingly replies. Hannibal continues his knife work.

“I would give you my word that I would protect your headspace, yet I’ve left you to your mental devices,” Hannibal admits. Will crossed his legs then used his linked hands to hold his knee in place.

“You’ve also put me in uncomfortable situations that _you_ crafted.” Hannibal slows his knife and starts putting the meat into the pot with the broth in it. Hannibal starts cutting up vegetables now to place into it.

“Yes. I apologize for putting you through that.” Hannibal glances up at Will, and Will mentally curses the man for the sincerity of each word drips.

“How can every apology you give be sincere? You’ve apologized multiple times already, yet these things are still happening, Hannibal.” Hannibal places his knife down as he adds the vegetables; he grabs a spoon to stir the pot slowly.

“I pride myself on being sincere and polite, especially to people who are close to me.” Hannibal catches his eyes again and holds eye contact until Will finally sighs.

“Fine. Don’t surprise me again.” Will warns. Will puts out two fingers to Hannibal.

“You’re on your second strike.”

“I presume I’ll be out on the third.” Hannibal chuckles softly, and Will lets a grin curved his lips.

“I’ll drop a strike if you’re good,” Will says in a slightly suggestive tone. Hannibal smirks.

“I’ll be good for you.” Hannibal purrs. Will blushes and turns his head away, reaching the limit of flirtation he can handle. 

“Foul ball,” Will mutters to himself.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Will doesn’t have any major incidents until the fourth night. Will looked at another “angel-maker” crime scene where his subconscious pieces together that all the victims are demons in disguise. When Will goes to sleep, he knows he won’t sleep the night. His suspicion was confirmed when he woke up at 11:35. Will looks around the room, trying to find if something is disturbing his sleep. 

There’s a shadow in the corner, unmoving. Will doesn’t dare try to acknowledge it. When he finds the courage to, he goes back to sleep. Will wakes up again and sees the clock at 2:02, then he blinks. The clock now has 5:03 clearly on it. Exhaustion eats at him; he just wants to sleep peacefully for once. Will slowly goes back to sleep after a few hard blinks.

Hannibal wakes up to soft footsteps passing his door. Hannibal checks the clock; it’s 7:10 am. Hannibal gets up and puts a robe with slippers on before opening the bedroom door. Hannibal looks down both halls, seeing Will’s figures turning to go downstairs. Hannibal follows Will, watching him as he stumbles around the house. Will walks all the way to the kitchen, where he stops on top of where the cellar door is. 

Hannibal moves around and looks at Will’s face. Will’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing softly. Hannibal walks back over to Will and gets a better smell from Will. The beautiful scent of fever over flooded his senses, Will’s own pine musk mixed with it to cause Hannibal’s mouth to water. Instead of continuing to try to take in Will’s scent, Hannibal started to make coffee. Hannibal watches as Will blinks awake, looking around sharply.

“Did I…?” Will says in a rough tone. Hannibal answers it with a flick of a light turning on and two cups of coffee being filled.

“Sleepwalk? Yes.” Will puts his hands over his eyes when the lights turn on. He holds them there until Hannibal sets a cup near him.

“...Aspirin?” Hannibal gestures to a cabinet far away from the food. Will walks over and opens it, scanning the bottles before finding what he’s looking for. Opening the bottle to take a handful dry before placing it back and getting his coffee from the counter. Hannibal stays silent as he sips his coffee, Will tilts his head once he’s finished his cup.

“I should’ve brought my sleeping bag to make a poor man's straight jacket.” Hannibal chuckles at that, Will grins but doesn’t let it last too long.

“I can lock your door when you go to sleep.” Hannibal offers. Will makes a face.

“I’ve meant to ask, why do you have keyed locks on the doors for the outside? Are you H. H. Holmes?” Will questions. Hannibal shakes his head while giving a hearty chuckle. Hannibal places his coffee cup down to provide Will with his full attention. 

“I know my house is big, but it’s not a murder house, dear Will. The rooms change frequently, and guests come over regularly. Having locked doors keeps from unwanted happenings.” Hannibal explains away; he looks amused at Will’s assumption.

“I’m glad your dinner parties aren’t a cover for sex parties then.” The glare Hannibal gives Will for his comment was very much worth it. Will moves closer to Hannibal, the lighthearted conversation dying as the sun barely makes an appearance. Hannibal slowly starts to close their distance. Hannibal is cautious at first, then places both his hands on either side of Will; he leans in and sniffs him.

“Did you just smell me?” Will asked in disbelief.

“Difficult to avoid,” Hannibal whispered. Will moves to adjust their positions, looking back at Hannibal with a glare.

“I really must introduce you to a finer aftershave. That smells like something with a ship on the bottle.” Will chuckles, shaking his head.

“I keep getting it for Christmas.” Hannibal pulls back for Will to turn around. They’re face to face in such an intimate pose that Hannibal is worried he’ll make a wrong move.

“Have your headaches been worse or more frequent lately?” Hannibal asks quietly.

“Yes,” Will says in a breathy tone. Hannibal reels in his self control slowly.

“I’d change the aftershave.” Hannibal pulls back from Will as Will places a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“We need to stay professional with each other,” Will says stiffly. Hannibal tilts his head, Will takes his hand back and removes himself from between the counter and Hannibal. 

“You can’t keep being so intimate with me. We could get too… close,” Will trails off. Hannibal gives a short laugh.

“But aren’t we friends?”

“Yes, but I was your patient only a few months ago.” Will shot back. Hannibal seems taken aback, a troubled expression on his face.

“I haven’t thought of it.”

“It’s illegal for us to be romantic, isn’t it?” Will questioned. Hannibal’s face hardens, but he shakes his head. Hannibal turns to face Will, watching the conflict of emotions run across his face.

“It’s not unheard of. I believe the prohibition is 6 months between it.” Hannibal states. Will stays quiet for a moment before nodding. Will’s arms cross as he refuses to make eye contact with Hannibal again.

“Six months Hannibal. Nothing until it’s over.” Hannibal nods in sullen agreement. Silence falls between them; it’s bulky and uncomfortable for both of them. Hannibal makes the first move by going to the stove, seemingly ready to prepare to cook something.

“...Breakfast?” Hannibal tries once more. Will shakes his head tensely, adjusting his weight on his feet, then walks over to the doorway. Will pauses before turning his head to the side.

“I lost my appetite.” Will states. He quickly retreats to his room, frustration piling up in his heart. Will this time be careful to place his bag near the bed to trip if he sleepwalks again. Will lays down and watches the clock also before going to sleep.

When he wakes up this time, it’s 9:00 AM, Will is groggy when he wakes up, but he’s still in his room. The slow lull of a headache starts making an appearance, which irritates Will. After all the pain killers he had taken, he should be a human pain killer. Will stops himself from going downstairs to get more painkillers; he’s sure Hannibal would ration his pills sooner or later. Instead, he gets his computer and logs into his computer. The first website he visits is TattleCrime. It’s a morbid affair due to another serial killer’s death that Freddie cannot write about.

Will sees the corpse of Elliot Buddish hanging there by the barn rafters. When he looks up and into the corner, he sees Buddish is standing there. Will tries to ignore it, but Elliot slowly stumbles towards him, getting on his knees in front of him. Will slowly looks towards him, acknowledging him.

“I can show the majesty... of your becoming.” Elliot pleads. Hobbs appears behind Buddish just as the horned man slowly forms behind the two of them.

“Se—“ The horned man quickly swipes at them. Will finches and sees nothing anymore. No Buddish, no Hobbs, and no horned man. All that passes through his mind is how hungry he is. Maybe something is wrong with him. He’s never been hungry until Hannibal cooked for him. Slowly Will dresses before making his descent back downstairs to satisfy the hunger gnawing at him.

  
  


~*~ 

The affair of Will leaving the house is a conflicted one. Hannibal finds himself missing Will the second Alana drives off after picking him up. Hannibal stares out the window of the living room until he can’t see Alana’s hybrid anymore. Hannibal moves onto the couch and picks up his iPad to start reading TattleCrime. There are no new posts about Will or Abigail, which he finds himself grateful for; the hole is in heart still fresh from Will’s deal.

_“Six months Hannibal. Nothing until it’s over.”_ Will’s voice echoes in his head. Hannibal frowns and places the iPad down with the article on Elliot Buddish on full display. Hannibal watches the screen before bringing his attention towards the bookshelf. The phantom of a fuming Will standing there as he touches the spines of each book, glaring back at Hannibal.

“I wonder if the Angel Maker would’ve seen you as an incubus…” Hannibal wonders to himself. Hannibal gets up and walks over to where the phantom was before, touching the same books.

“I wonder how much I can push your brain until you reach your becoming.” Hannibal smiles, pulling out The Portrait of Dorian Gray. Hannibal hums at it, the rainbow under one of Will’s thermos’ coming to mind.

“For my dinner party, I will order green carnations,” Hannibal notes, pulling out his phone to start calling his most trusted florist. Hannibal remembers that Will threatened him not to show him off again; however, Hannibal couldn’t resist debuting him into his circle. It’ll prepare Will for the opera, Hannibal rationalizes. 

“Alan Blooming floral arrangements, how may we help you?” Giddy sales associate answers.

“Hello, this is Hannibal Lecter. I’m hosting a dinner party on the last Friday of February, and I was wondering if it would be possible to have 3 small and 3 medium arrangements of green carnations?” Hannibal hears a pen on paper scratch hurriedly.

“Welcome back, Dr. Lecter. It’ll be no trouble, we’ve worked with last-minute wedding arrangements. This is perfect.” The associate assures. Hannibal smiles and adjusts the book in his hand to be pushed against his chest.

“Perfect, and may you add Sweet Williams to the arrangement also?” After hearing another sound of a pen scratching on paper, the associate makes a joyful hum.

“Alright, 3 small and medium sweet william and green carnation arrangements. Anything else?” Hannibal thinks for a moment.

“No, thank you.” 

“We’ll call you in the morning to pick them up. Are we using the same account as last time?”

“Yes. You may also add any greenery you deem necessary.” Hannibal says carefully.

“We’ll make them even more beautiful than the last arrangement.” The associate swears. Hannibal lifts his head, pleased by the reaction.

“You always do.” After they said their goodbyes, Hannibal hangs up and sits in an armchair. He opens the book, and before he starts reading, only one thought comes into his mind.

“I wonder which ingredients I should catch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m getting ready for surgery soon, I wanted to bang out a chapter for you guys and revise some previous ones. Thank you for your patience!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will ends up missing a job, but he and Hannibal have a birthday party to attend.  
> Hannibal finds that Will lightens up any dinner he has, especially in contrast without him there. Maybe he should invite him over... permanently.

“Matthew Brown is working with us today,” James tells him in the van. Will is almost tempted to open the door and jump out of the moving vehicle. Instead, he looks over with a glare, which James laughs nervously at.

“I know how you feel about him, but the boss insisted he worked with us since it’s his other job.” James tried to shift the blame, but Will knew better. James had deliberately hidden the fact that Matthew was coming until now, so Will couldn’t leave. Will wonders if James had the same feeling about Matthew as he did. James turns into the parking lot and finds a space reasonably close to where they needed to enter. They exit the car and make their way up the steps. James glanced over to Will.

“Are you still nervous about these places?” James asked. 

“I’m afraid they won’t let me out,” Will replies, carefully stepping up the stairs. Will still manages to trip, but it’s more of a stumble than kissing the concrete. James laughs softly, opening the door.

“I won’t leave you here.”

“Not today.” Will passes him and walks into the grand opening of the hospital. The smell of chemicals burns his nostrils, then the sound of an argument catches his ears.

“You hired another company to clean it? Dr. Chilton, we’re employed by the FBI to clean for them. They called us out here.” Matthew Brown’s irritated voice carried through the foyer. James caught up with him and made a face.

“Oh no,” James mutters. The temptation to turn around without getting any details about the current situation is very tempting.

“Mr. Brown, it’s not FBI jurisdiction. It’s my hospital.” Dr. Chilton replies. The man looks over to see Will and James. He gives a sly grin.

“Gentlemen, you wasted your gas. I’ve already had the mess clean. There’s no need to clean anymore. Please leave, and Matthew?” Dr. Chilton looks back at Matthew, who looks in silent rage.

“I expect you at work tomorrow morning.” Dr. Chilton leaves without saying anything further. Matthew quickly stomps over to his co-worker; he barely glances at Will, still blinded by anger.

“That bastard called another company! The FBI told him to have us clean it.” Matthew fumes. James slowly steers him out the door, and they stand by the stairs to touch base.

“So, we’re not getting paid today,” Will says dryly. Matthew perks up, looking at Will before looking at the ground.

“I didn’t know,” Matthew mutters. James rubs his face in exhaustion.

“Alright, let’s not get mad at the job. It’s the bastards’ fault. I’ll call Barney and have him settle us.” James says, getting his phone out and walking to the van to make the call. Matthew and Will stand together by the stairs In silence. Will wishes he could make a phone call like James so he could leave.

“Someone should gut him.” A quiet voice whispered. Will looked at Matthew, confused.

“What?” Matthew blinks innocently.

“Is something wrong?” Will looks around, rubbing his ear as he shifts around.

“I thought you said something…” Will mutters. When he looks back, Matthew is smiling brightly. It seems more sinister than it should.

“Nope.” Matthew pops the ‘p.’ Will looks away from him. Maybe he’s starting to lose his mind. Will hears the gentle click of heels before they stop.

“Will?” Alana’s voice asks. Will turns around, smiling, lighting up his face. Yet it falters when Hannibal and Jack Crawford are seen behind her. Will tries to keep his smile up for her sake, however.

“I wasn’t expecting you here. Now that I think about it, it would’ve been odd if you weren’t here.” Will chuckles. Alana descends the stairs with a smile, hugging Will.

“It’s always good to see you. If you’re in your uniform does that mean you were cleaning the…” Will doesn’t let her finish before he nods. Will sees Matthew adjust himself, like a bird ruffling his feathers.

“Yes. Dr. Chilton informed us only now that he’s already cleaned it.” Matthew tells her, a grumble hidden in his voice. Hannibal looks over to Matthew, sizing him up. Alana looks over at Matthew, squinting to remember his face.

“You work at the hospital as well, don’t you? As an orderly.” Alana asks. Matthew slowly nods. He makes eye contact with Hannibal briefly as Alana turns her attention back to Will. She gives Will a gentle smile as she pats his shoulder.

“Well, I have to leave. Big cases and all that.” Alana gives him another hug before leaving. Jack follows after her. Presumably, they are carpooled. Hannibal walks next to Will, smiling at him.

“I presume you’re free for the rest of the day. I was told of a nice café that has opened recently.” Hannibal suggests. Will thinks about it, looking down at his attire then assessing Hannibal’s.

“Will still has worked.” Matthew introjects. A predatory smile stretches on Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal extends a handout for him to shake.

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you’re not Will’s usual coworker.” Hannibal jabs. Matthew takes the hand with confidence, but it wavers after a firm squeeze from Hannibal.

“Matthew Brown, James is in the van. Probably arguing with Barney about Chilton doing things he shouldn’t.” They take their hands away, Matthew rubbing his hand. Will takes notice and glares at Hannibal. Will didn’t like Matthew, but Hannibal should still not compete with his coworkers, especially when he knows Will and him cannot get closer for the time being.

“I don’t think I’ll be going with you today. There are more jobs to do than FBI ones.” Will’s tense reply causes Hannibal to look like a kicked puppy. Will ignores it and makes his way back to the truck. He doesn’t pay any mind to Matthew, who trails behind him.

“Who were they?” Matthew questions. Will stops and jabs a finger into Matthew’s shoulder, causing the man to stumble back. Matthew blinks in surprise while Will holds his glare.

“You aren’t my friend. You’re a coworker. Don’t try to get any closer to me.” Will says firmly. Matthew grabs his hand tightly. It stings, and Will finds himself losing his patience.

“Can’t coworkers be friends?” Will watches his eyes. Darkness lurks behind his innocent eyes. Will’s frown deepens, and he takes his hands back.

“My friendship isn’t something you will earn,” Will says in a disgusted tone. Will makes his way quickly into the car, sitting in the passenger seat while James looks exhausted. Will let James collect himself before speaking.

“Hoarding job?”

“Burnt one.” Will cringes but guesses it’s better than dealing with Matthew and Dr. Chilton in the same building. Will looks over to see Hannibal in the distance get into his car, Will searches for Matthew but can’t find him anywhere.

“And Matthew?” James looks over, shaking his head. Will almost exclaims in delight that Matthew was shipped off to a different job from then. 

“I wonder if burnt trash will smell better than the last hoarding job we did.” James pulls a face.

“Poop bathtub? Why must you bring such traumatic memories back into my head…”

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” Hannibal once again invites himself over to Will’s house for dinner. Hannibal comes prepared with bowls and drinks for them, with Will expected to provide the silverware. Will glares at the man from his small kitchen, watching as he peacocks his cooking.

“Because you had a pissing contest with my coworker.” Will murmurs. Hannibal pauses a frown on his lips.

“Mister Brown? Surely you knew the glares he was giving Alana.”

“Yes, but he’s still my coworker. You know very well that I’ve… decided to try on us… After our prohibition was up.” Will adds in the last part, trying to convince himself that their meals together aren’t dates. Hannibal stares at him. He adjusts his suit jacket stiffly as he sits down in a chair. Buster sits in between his legs happily while Hannibal looks displeased.

“Buster will make my shoes into slippers before the year is over,” Hannibal says in an affronted tone. Will laughs before bringing over the necessary utensils for them, having cups ready so they can start eating.

“I know that “Mister Brown” has a painful longing for me.” Will mimic’s Hannibal’s accent to pronounce his name. Hannibal allows a small smirk on his lips while Will stuffs his mouth full of food at the first chance he gets. Hannibal watches him with a slight frown; Will smiles with food still in his mouth, which Hannibal cringes at.

“I’m not an idiot, Hannibal. I know when someone is trying to get into my pants. I’ve had experience with romance before.” Hannibal looks at him again, relieved that Will isn’t trying to make a show of him eating anymore. Hannibal places his fork down and leans forward.

“Tell me about Don.” Will slowly places his fork down, frowning.

“Can I take a drink first?” Hannibal nods, Will gets up and takes out a cheap whiskey bottle and glass. He fills it until it’s almost brimming before knocking it back. Will shivers before bringing both items to the table, making room for it by pushing Hannibal’s food away.

“Don was a long-term college boyfriend. Four years. I thought he was the one, but everyone knew he wasn’t.” Will rubs his beard as he fills the glass with whiskey again. Hannibal watches him gulp it down also, almost impressed by his lack of reaction.

“I think I knew he was abusing me, subconsciously. I tried to convince myself otherwise until he started blatantly trying to isolate me from Alana…” Will mutters. Will swishes the whiskey in the bottle, thinking about filling his glass again.

“There was Liam Vaughn in High School; he never acknowledged we were dating. Constantly bringing girls to football games and kissing them. Dumped him at homecoming by pouring soda on his nice rented tux.” Will makes eye contact with Hannibal. Hannibal feels pinned underneath his eyes suddenly. It’s a foreign feeling that makes Hannibal excited.

“What about your exes? I only have two bags with me.” 

“Along with your family baggage.” 

“Hey! We’re only focusing on exes.” They share a soft chuckle. Hannibal looks down at his meal, eating it again. He’s desperate to finish it, even if Will will soon protest otherwise.

“I’ve had no serious romantic long term relationship. A few men and some women have tried to be with me, but a genuine connection couldn’t be formed.” Hannibal relents. He sips from his thermos. The liquid feels tasteless as the conversion soured on him.

“Why do you think I’ll be different?” Will asks.

“How about you?” Hannibal counters.

“...because we have a daughter.” Will slowly listed his reason.

“Couples together for the sake of a child aren't healthy.” 

“We got her from the blood. Raised her from the blood. She’s our blood daughter.” Will says seriously. Hannibal looks into his eyes. Will has an almost feral look lingering in his blue iris’. Hannibal finds himself drawn to them, like the sky calling a bird into flight.

“Yes. We’re Abigail’s blood fathers, aren’t we?” Hannibal smiles with his canines on full display, and Will mimics his smile. Will is the first to break their eye contact, picking up his fork again and starts eating his food again.

“...James’ party is tomorrow. You don’t have to dress up. It’s a birthday, not a cocktail party.” Will states. What Hannibal hears is he should dress up to impress the guests, nodding at Will’s statement. 

“Should I bring a gift?” Hannibal asks, maybe a card would suit James better. Will shakes his head.

“No, I bought him some margarita mix.” A card then, Hannibal makes a mental note to drop by the store to get parchment to make James’ a card. Will points his fork at Hannibal.

“I’ll text you the address and the time. You’ll pick me up, right?” 

“Of course.” It looks like poor Franklyn Froideveaux’s

appointment that day will be canceled once again this week. Hannibal can’t find any reason to care; however, smiling at Will, he’ll just excuse it as a conflict of interest came up.

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


“I thought I told you to dress down for James’ party?” Will asks. Will moved into the car while Hannibal smiled at him.

“What?” Will asked defensively.

“You look dashing.” Will almost rips the gift bag holding the margarita mix in it from pulling it too hard out of shock. Will sees a card in the cup holder with James’ name on it.

“Thank you.” Will falls silent as Hannibal begins the journey from Will’s humble abode to James’ home. Will looks over at Hannibal, observing him as he drives.

“You look handsome today.” Hannibal’s knuckles turn white, and Will smirks.

“I remember us having a conversation about this during your stay at my home that we must keep ourselves at a distance until six months are over.” Hannibal’s voice has a predatory growl underlining it. Will wanted to tease him more, but maybe Hannibal would get the idea to drive off the road to kill them out of frustration. Will pauses, perhaps not, Hannibal would be more elegant.

“At the next exit, take the left lane.” The GPS chimed. Hannibal moved over to the right lane to prepare to go to the exit. Classical music ate the silence between them nicely. Hannibal reached over to turn down the music.

“I had a conversation with Abigail when she first woke up; she asked me to pose this question to you.” Will looks over, interesting.

“How does it feel to kill?” Will blinks, squinting at Hannibal.

“Did she really ask that?” Hannibal gives a conformational hum.

“Killing is the ugliest feeling in the world.” Will grits out, his expression unhappy. Hannibal taps the steering wheel twice.

“Is that how it truly feels?” 

“No.” 

“Turn right down Schrödinger lane in a mile.” The tension broke again. Hannibal glanced over to Will, watching him slowly unfold his arms. Will leaned against the window; he played with the present bag quietly.

“How does it truly feel, Will?” Hannibal whispers.

“Powerful,” Will says breathlessly. Hannibal quietly pulled over, putting on his hazards, before unbuckling his seat belt. Will looks over, and Hannibal grabs his chin, leaning over to touch foreheads with Will. They stayed like that until Will felt like he was burning under Hannibal’s gaze.

“We’re going to be late,” Will whispers. Hannibal frowns, slowly pulls back from Will. His hand lingers under his chin before putting his seat belt on and pulling back out into the road. Turning down the desired street and the GPS informed them that they reached their destination. Hannibal pulls into the driveway where two cars already were.

“I didn’t think he would have guests over already,” Will says in a slightly cautious tone.

“I’m with you, so don’t be nervous.” Hannibal smoothly interjects. Will smiles softly at him, his blue eyes glinting in the setting sun.

“I know. Thank you, Hannibal.” The pair exit the car, Will hauling his or more specifically his and Hannibal’s card for James to the door. Will knocks a couple of times, and they wait. Footsteps are heard approaching the door, but Hannibal observes that they were heavier than James’. James’ wasn’t a small man, but his presence was more of a spirit, A spirit that brought Will immense joy to get drunk with apparently. When the door opens, Will’s face shows evident surprise.

“Barney?” The man, Barney, raised an eyebrow at Will.

“...James, you didn’t say Will was coming now.” The group hears a faint cackle from inside the house. Barney side steps to let them in. Hannibal politely bows his head at the man. He knew this man wasn’t Will’s boss. Hannibal could shudder at the obnoxious voice that haunted his distant memory. Barney guided them to the kitchen, where James moved around with a glass of wine in his hand.

“Will!” James’ flushed face greeted. Will laughed as he placed the bag on the counter. Barney glanced over to Hannibal.

“Barney Matthews, I’m James’ partner.” Said man held out his hand, and Hannibal shook it.

“Doctor Hannibal Lecter, Will’s plus one.” Hannibal offers a polite smile. They take their hands away and watch the other two men embrace and talk amongst themselves.

“James has been cooking all day. I suggest going for the earlier things before he got tipsy. They’re less burnt.” Hannibal sniffed the air, smelling burnt cookies.

“Yes, if I may ask, why was Will so surprised about you being here?” Hannibal provides. Barney grunted as he moved to take the cookies out of the oven. 

“I work in Post Mortem, but at work, James and I have a strictly professional relationship. We’ve actually been married for five years.” 

“Five years?!” Will yelps, obviously eavesdropping ok the conversation. Barney placed the cookies on a cooling rack and turned off the oven.

“We’ve made it our goal to be as discreet as possible at work. We’re married legally but do you think the double boss checks for conflicts?” James took a sip of wine. He made an exciting humming before placing his cup down.

“Oh! Let me make you both something to drink. We have time before you both leave.” James zips around the kitchen to get wine glasses and takes expensive wine out of a cabinet. 

“That better not be the anniversary wine,” Barney warns. James glared at the labels.

“No, it says happy birthday to me,” James replies. Hannibal watches the two married men and how the dynamic works. James is energetic and social, while Barney is intimidating but polite. Hannibal looks over at Will, watching the man take in the scene, and has the look of longing on his face. 

“Dr. Lecter,” James smiles as he reaches over to give Hannibal the glass he made for him. Hannibal takes it and sniffs the wine, then sips it. It’s not as refined as he’s used to, but Hannibal’s glad to be accepted into Will’s bubble.

“Just Hannibal, please, any friend of Wills is a friend of mine.” Hannibal offers a charming smile, and James smirks at Will.

“Alright, Hannibal, I hope you didn’t spoil your appetite before coming here.” James teases. Will watches as Hannibal keeps his politeness on while Will gulps wine. James leans in close to him.

“We’re watching Jennifer's Body tonight. Barney hasn’t watched it yet.” James whispers. Will was going to reply, but a ring on the doorbell interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh! Our sassy science team is here!” James cheered. He rushed over to the door leaving the three men alone in the kitchen. Will coughed to break up the silence.

“Let’s go sit on the couch, Hannibal,” Will suggests. Will leads him to the spacious living room. Hannibal takes notice of a sphynx cat lounging on a window sill. 

“That’s Gaga, James also has a tabby named Goliath, but I think they put him upstairs. Cat fur allergies.” Hannibal tilts his head.

“Is that something you suffer from?” Hannibal asks curiously. Will shakes his head.

“No, I’m allergic to penicillin.” Hannibal processes the information before divulging into his own allergy.

“Chalk,” Hannibal says quickly. Taking a sip of wine.

“Chalk? What do you mean, chalk?”

“I’m allergic to it.” 

“...” Will stares at him for a long time.

“There’s no way.” Unfortunately, but fortunate for Hannibal, James walks in with three other guests. Two males and a female who Will somewhat recognizes.

“Is that… you Beverly?” Will asks, getting up from the couch. Beverly gives a prize-winning smile. She quickly grabs Will’s hand to give it a fair shake.

“I didn’t know we had more friends in common! I think this is a sign we should become friends since our friend group has overlapped.” Will shuffles on his feet before giving her a strained smile. James quickly intervenes to ease the awkwardness building.

“This is Jimmy and Brian; they work with Bev. We all met in college. A fateful bar-hopping session and new friends for years.” James laughed. Barney silently walked in the room to take away James’ glass of wine, which the shorter man gave a weak protest.

“Everyone, please watch James while I cook.” Barney looked at all the standing adults. He looked over at Hannibal, who blinked in confusion.

“Hannibal, I trust you supervise the babysitters.” Barney left, and Hannibal had a puzzled look on his face.

“Should I be concerned that I have to supervise?” Will laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It never gets too crazy.”

~*~

  
  
  


Hannibal learned that “never gets too crazy” meant that they wouldn’t do anything illegal. Jimmy is passed out on the floor with a pillow haphazardly under his head while Beverly has a leg over him snoring. Brian was snuggled up with Gaga on the armchair. Will and Janes were clinging onto each other on one end of the couch while Barney and Hannibal were banished to the other side.

“Why is she eating him, Will?” James whispered loudly to Will. Hannibal looks over to see Will squint at the screen. Will pouts before glaring at James.

“James! You know it don’t work like that!” Will’s Louisiana bayou drawl was coming out in full swing. Hannibal could barely understand him, his English processing being stalled by every word coming out of Will's mouth. Hannibal could've found it endearing if it didn't sound like Will was spouting nonsense. James giggles and snuggles into Will, which Hannibal turns his look to the screen, watching the actress Megan Fox swim in the lake to get rid of blood after eating a football jock.

“How did you like the food?” Barney asks. Hannibal turns his attention to him. They both had kept themselves sober. Hannibal gave a pleased grin to Barney.

“It was delicious. Your spices brought a lot out of the dish.” He watched Barney wear a pleased expression on his face. Hannibal found that he liked Barney’s temperament and cooking. Hannibal would happily admit that Barney’s steak was delicious; it cut like butter and was adequately seasoned.

“I’m happy Will found someone like you. That boy was always hiding in his shell, those darn reading glasses he wouldn’t take off.” Hannibal watched Barney. After confirming the man was genuine, he gave a polite grin.

“Yes, he has made a lot more eye contact as of late,” Hannibal admits. Barney reached over and patted Hannibal’s knee before getting up.

“Take care of him,” Barney told him. Hannibal watched as Barney walked over and took James from Will, James almost falling asleep immediately in Barney’s arms. Hannibal thinks he should do the same, getting up, and going to Will.

“Will?” Hannibal asks. Will blinks, rubbing his eyes.

“Are we goin' home?” Will mutters sleepily. Hannibal gives a slow nod.

“Yes, I’ll give them your goodbyes” Hannibal picks up Will just as Barney comes downstairs.

“Let me help you.” Barney offers. He opens the front door then the car door for Hannibal to place Will down. Hannibal quietly straps Will in as he mumbled and shuffled around to get comfortable. Hannibal closes the door and turns to Barney.

“Thank you, have a good night.” Barney smiles at him.

“Have a goodnight Dr. Lecter.” Hannibal gets in his car and drives away, watching Barney before bringing his focus back to the road. Will stirred in his seat until he looked towards Hannibal with hazy eyes.

“They don’t have the Chesapeake Ripper in captivity…” Will whispers. Hannibal took a glance over to show Will he was listening. The now silent GPS is guiding them back home.

“You’ve read the new TattleCrime story?” Hannibal questions. Will nods, pointing towards Hannibal.

“They gonna piss him off if they keep slanderin' him… It’ll take him by the end of the week to act out.” Will tells him, putting his finger down and watching Hannibal curiously. Will shifts again in the seat to look out the window. Hannibal tries not to stare at Will. He needs to drive them both home. However, Hannibal enjoys how the darkness frames Will’s face nicely, only the console offering light to cut into his features.

“It might take less… don’t tell anyone, but the Ripper is harassing Jack Crawford. The night the article was posted, he got a call from him.” Hannibal tells Will in a low tone. Will looks over, interested in the conversation again.

“What do you think the Ripper is gonna give back to Jack for slanderin' him?” Will asked excitedly. Hannibal hides the joy on his face for Will being interested in his private life. Hannibal is glad he can have such a conversation with Will. He couldn’t imagine talking to anyone else about his plans to torment Uncle Jack.

“A piece of someone Jack put in danger. Jack has a bad history of using non-official FBI personnel as pawns. I’m sure if you look him up, you’ll see the court document of when he got sued by that person’s parents for reckless endangerment.” Hannibal supplies to Will. Will hums happily, positively vibrating in fascination. 

“He should put it in an observatory. To rub in the fact that Jack was the one who burned that star out.” Will tells him in a low tone. Will's accent waivers; maybe he was starting to sober up. Hannibal briefly watches as Will starts to nod off.

“I think you’re right. We’ll see. Maybe it’ll be in the mailbox.” Hannibal suggest. Will makes a whine in protest.

“No! He’s more thoughtful than that! That’ll be tasteless. Stupid to put himself so close.” Will argues. Hannibal gives a hum as he takes the exit to go to Wolf Trap.

“You’re very right. It would be quite tasteless.” When Hannibal can look over again, Will is slumped over asleep leaning on the window. Hannibal thinks about his suggestion and takes it. That old observatory should be put to some fair use. Maybe Abel Gideon will become a pawn, getting rid of some annoying flies around him. However, Abel might go after Alana, and Alana is very precious to Will. Troublesome business, but it’ll be good to find out how far Will’s willing to go to protect someone he loves.

When Hannibal is finally at Will’s house and parked, Hannibal unbuckled himself and turned to watch Will sleep. The rise and fall of his chest, the soft breaths he lets out, and the peaceful expression on his face make Hannibal etch it into his memory palace. Storing it away to draw later, maybe when he has more time. However, Hannibal wanted to cherish this moment. Slowly Hannibal moves to lean over and kiss Will’s cheek. It’s soft and tender. They would be excellent to bite into, yet he stops himself from going further.

“Will? You’re home.” Hannibal gently says, shaking the man with one hand. Will groans and stretches out dramatically. Will looks over to Hannibal with a loopy smile.

“Thank you, Hannibal…!” It takes all of Hannibal's willpower not to kiss those pink lips of his. Instead, he gives a smile to Will, his eyes crinkling at their ends.

“Let me get you settled.”

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Will to this… Dinner.” Alana forces out. She drinks her beer with anger boiling below the surface. They’ve had an unpleasant dinner with Dr. Frederick as usual. Maybe they were masochists by now. Hannibal simply remains silent as he washes the dishes.

“I believe Will would’ve jumped over to the table to hurt Fredrick if he kept insulting you. Insinuating that you were the unethical one.” Hannibal relays to her. Alana laughs softly as she quietly continues to drink. She places her glass down and rubs her head, groaning in frustration.

“It’s easy to know he’s lying, but to catch him lying is a different matter. Only a proper investigation will tell.” Alana says miserably. Hannibal extends his sympathy towards her by taking a break from the dishes to refill her beer. Hannibal finishes and leans against the counter to look at Alana.

“Do you believe that Will would be able to if two murders are by the same person?” Hannibal asks. Alana looks at him in shock, but it dissipates fast, a sigh echoing from her chest.

“Will used to be a cop. Homicide. He was one of their best, but Will couldn’t shoot his gun, and he got stabbed. That was almost, god, 8 years ago? Time flies….” Alana informs him. Her finger traces the rim of the glass slowly.

“Will could tell, though. He sympathizes with killers well and their designs. I encourage him to pursue another career. However, I feel he still got dragged into this… destructive cycle.” Alana tears up but tries to keep her composure. Hannibal walks over and places a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Alana looks at him desperately, her eyes pleading in a silent cry for help.

“Keep Will safe.” She whispers. Hannibal slowly takes his hand away.

“I will.” Alana smiles at him and leaves to retire in a guest room. Hannibal stands in the kitchen, at a total loss. He’s conflicted by the need to protect and uphold the promise he made to Alana and completely ruining Will to build him up again. Hannibal’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and Hannibal picks it up, opening it to see it’s a text from Will.

[Will]  
I took off the two days you wanted me to take off. I’m a free man!

Hannibal wants to let fate decide whether Will becomes part of him or decoration of his. However, Hannibal knows that he can ultimately have Will on his web with convincing enough, but patience is a virtue. Will Graham just happens to be the temptress who tests every boundary Hannibal has set up for people.

[Hannibal]  
It’ll be a grand occasion then.

Will responds with a few party popper emojis to mess with him. Hannibal closes his eyes and places the phone in his pocket.

_He’ll be mine either way_ , That’s all Hannibal wants for now. No orderly or ex-boyfriend will change his mind with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo-hoo! I had some of this chapter written for a while. My HC is when TV Will gets drunk/plastered, and his accent comes out. I tried my best to write the accent and still have it be readable. The bayou accent certainly is something.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal go on their Opera date, and Hannibal comes around to having that fancy dinner party. Also, drunken shenanigans and heavy intimate moments.

“Do I look okay?” Will has Hannibal on quality check for his tux for the night. The fur babies are out of the house so that Will could get ready with no distractions. Hannibal had insisted that Will prepares with him in the place in case any mishaps happen. Hannibal reaches over and grabs his bow tie around his neck. Will hold his breath as Hannibal pulls him close and ties it correctly. Will only dares breathe when Hannibal steps away.

“You look beautiful. Let’s start our journey.” Hannibal urged. Will follows Hannibal out of his house, locking the door before getting into the car. Will notes that the car smells as if it was just cleaned. He wonders briefly if Hannibal finally got told he had small amounts of dog hair on his suit, which would’ve mortified him. Will stares at the road as Hannibal drives towards the Baltimore Opera House from Wolf Trap.

“Am I expected to socialize?” Will asks. Hannibal gives a brisk laugh; Will looks at him unamused. 

“Just a little. I’ll take over the rest.” Hannibal purrs. Will doubts that Hannibal will simply have him as arm candy. Maybe he should’ve brushed up on his philosophy before entering this unfamiliar territory.

“What’s the opera again? In Italian or something I can understand?” Will question. Hannibal chuckles at his sass, tilting his head.

“It’s Händel's "Piangerò la sorte mia" from Giulio Cesare. It’s Italian, but I assume you’ll feel the emotions of the opera despite that. The new opera singer is very talented.” Hannibal indulges him. Will watches him with an easy smile on his face.

“It’s nice to see you talk about something you like. Your eyes twinkle.” Will tells him, reaching over to brush a stray dog hair from Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal takes a few deep breaths to calm himself; he can’t pull off to the side of the road and miss the opera. This was a great memorable night for Will and him, something that has been planned for months in advance.

“I hope you allow me to devolve into more of my interests.” Hannibal smiles. Will places a hand on his cheek to admire Hannibal.

“I don’t stop you. I think you were waiting for me to permit you.” Will snickers. Hannibal smiles, Will is only half right.

“Maybe. Only if you also divulge your interests more. Fly fishing is a skill I want to learn with you.” Hannibal admits. Will looks back over at him, a questionable expression on his face.

“Are you sure you want to fly fish? You seem more like a hunter.” Hannibal listens to Will, tapping the wheel as he takes the exit towards the opera house.

“I’m interested in what you like. If you can teach me, you can teach Abigail.” Will pauses at the mention of Abigail’s name. Will and she haven’t talked since Christmas after Alana chewed Hannibal, a new one for signing her out. Neither has Will been able to visit the girl since his boss has been picking up extra work for them.

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that. When is Abigail allowed to visit us without jumping the fence? Don’t give me that look, ‘Lana told me over movie night. Abigail can’t escape to my house like she can to your office.” Will watches the road turn into a city slowly. It seems like they’re getting closer to their destination.

“Alana hasn’t informed me yet. I’m sure she’ll tell me all the restrictions Abigail will have on her before just telling you not to indulge her too much.” Hannibal waves a dismissive hand. Will laughs at Hannibal’s expense.

“I wasn’t the one who gave her shrooms, Hannibal.” Will snickered. Hannibal stops at a red light and gives Will a soft glare.

“She was nervous…”

“She couldn’t just have THC. Yet you just so happen to have these magic mushrooms.” Will jokes, Hannibal looks back at the road with a frown. Driving once, then the light turns green again.

“She calmed down,” Hannibal mutters under his breath. Will laughs again, amused at Hannibal, trying to defend himself.

“She’s doing better in therapy. Alana says she should be ready to leave and visit by April.” Hannibal says in a brighter tone, Will smiles at the news. Will watches as they drive towards the big opera house.

“I think I’ve seen an opera house like this in a movie once,” Will says in awe. Hannibal smiles, glancing over to Will as he places his VIP parking pass on the rearview mirror. Hannibal drives up to VIP and rolls down the window. The security guard takes one look at him and brightens up.

“Dr. Lecter! It’s been too long since you’ve attended a performance. Drive right in!” The guard opens the gate, and Hannibal gives a wave as he drives into the VIP parking area.

“You go to the opera so much that not only do you have a VIP parking pass, the guards also recognize you?” Will says incredulously. Hannibal keeps smiling as he parks, looking over at Will when he takes his keys out of the ignition.

“I’m a donor.” Hannibal divulges. Hannibal gets out of the car, and Will follows suit. They meet at the trunk where Hannibal holds out his elbow, and Will gracefully takes it.

“I’ll be your eye candy for tonight if it keeps me from talking.” Will grins; Hannibal lets out a pleased hum as he locks the car doors and starts walking with Will, holding his arm with his other hand.

  
  


“You’re my guest of honor tonight. Many will be jealous.” Hannibal warns. Will moves closer and leans his head on his shoulder.

  
  


“Let them be jealous.” Will confidently claims. Hannibal finds himself delighted with Will and how the man can adapt to almost every situation. Hannibal turns his head to kiss the top of Will’s head quickly, making the man give a scandalized gasp in protest.

“Just making sure everyone knows who you’re with,” Hannibal assures him. Will rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything further as they’re checked in and get ready to watch the opera.

~*~

Will held Hannibal’s hand throughout the performance, feeling Hannibal squeeze his hand when he got upset or moved by the singer’s voice. Will didn’t lean his head on Hannibal’s shoulder out of fear that Hannibal might get scrutinized for being too affectionate in public. On top of the fact, they were supposed to be sneaky about their relationship and not flaunting it. Hannibal gave a standing ovation when the opera ended, Will followed his lead but gave a golf clap. Will enjoyed watching Hannibal watch the opera since he couldn’t understand what was happening half the time. Hannibal retakes his hand and leads him into the afterparty area, grabbing two champagne glasses for them to enjoy.

“Now, please don’t drink any more than this. I would be cautious of who offers you a drink.” Hannibal warns softly. Will laughs as he sips the champagne.

“Does that mean I should be wary of you too?” 

Hannibal pauses before he even takes a sip of champagne. Hannibal gives Will an exasperated look that Will is convinced is his only since Hannibal only uses it strictly towards. Will grins impishly and takes another sip of Champagne.

“I think that woman is coming over to talk to you,” Will whispers to Hannibal. Hannibal looks around but stops when he sees Mrs. Komeda coming their way. Hannibal moves closer to Will, and Will silently takes his free arm to hold.

“Hannibal, my dear, how are you? It’s been far too long since you’ve attended a performance.” The woman with the short-haired bob smiled at Hannibal. Hannibal took her hand when she outstretched it and gave a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Mrs. Komeda, it has been too long. I must introduce you to my partner. This is Will Graham.” Will offers a smile and a hand in which the two exchange a weak shake.

“I heard you’re going to throw a dinner party soon. Perhaps this lovely man is the cause of your inspiration?” Mrs. Komeda giggles to Hannibal. Hannibal smiles elegantly. He moves his arm, that holds his drink, out of Will’s grip and around the smaller man's waist.

“Yes, Will has caused a recent strike of inspiration in me. I plan on having a dinner party in his honor. He even graciously took off of work for the occasion.” Hannibal gossips. Mrs. Komeda giggles again as Will slowly starts to look around the room, scanning for familiar faces. Will spots a portly, curly-haired man who looks eager to come over to their spot.

“What do you fo for work, Mr. Graham?” Mrs. Komeda brings Will back to the group. Will puts on a bright smile for her.

“I’m a professional cleaner. Hannibal and I met on a job together, and we’ve seen each other since.” Mrs. Komeda’s eyes widened, a sparkle in her eye as he told their “love story.

“Oh, I remember when I met my husband. I was reporting on his new art gallery, and we had an instant spark together.” Mrs. Komeda shivers as her husband beside her gives her a lovey-dovey smile. Will and Hannibal exchange a single look. They certainly had a spark between them, alright. A spark of gunpowder, blood had them start their affair together. When they look back over, Mrs. Komeda has a displeased expression on her face.

  
  


“I believe this young man is trying to get your attention.” Mrs. Komeda says stiffly. The portly man looks excitedly at Hannibal while a taller man stands beside him. Hannibal’s hand tightens around Will’s waist, and he pulls Will closer to his side. Will looks up at Hannibal then back at the portly man who looks like he’s about to burst with excitement.

“Hello,” Hannibal says slowly.

“Hi, it’s good to see you. This is my friend Tobias.” The man introduces the taller man who seizes up Hannibal.

“Good evening.” Hannibal shakes Tobias’ hand.

“How do you two know each other?” Mrs. Komeda asks the portly man and Hannibal, gesturing between them. Will watches as the shorter man looks nervous as he looks up at Hannibal.

“I should still have some mysteries about my life outside the opera.” Hannibal deflects. Mrs. Komeda gives a thin smile before the portly man focuses on her.

“I’m one of his patients.” The man responds. Will looks up at Hannibal, watching his expression turn stony, cold. Obviously displeased by the man's appearance at the opera.

“Did you enjoy the performance?” Will asks. The man nods enthusiastically.

“Yes, I did. Every second of it.” He said proudly. Tobias slowly looks over to Will.

“His eyes kept wandering. More interested in Dr. Lecter than what was happening on stage.” Tobias tattles on the shorter man. The poor man looks ashamed now, but Will can’t find an ounce of sympathy for him.

“It seems you have an admirer, Hannibal. Should I be worried about my own position by your side?” Will places a hand on Hannibal’s chest, looking up at him and side-eyeing the other patient. Hannibal quickly catches on to his act and leans down to almost kiss Will.

“No, my love, I just have something to discuss with Franklyn next week.” Hannibal moves his face away and holds a hand out, adjusting himself to give half-hearted handshakes.

“Good to see you,” Hannibal says in a stiff bug polite tone to Franklyn, who shakes his hand quickly.

“Tobias.” Hannibal pauses after their handshake, seemingly having a realization of sorts after it. Hannibal turns back to the group, Will remaining by his side as he moves his champagne glass into his other hand to sip out of it.

“Who’s hungry?” Hannibal asks. Mrs. Komeda chuckles while Will finds himself more interested in the champagne.

  
  


~*~

  
  


“Should I be worried that I’m not the only socialized patient outside of the office?” Will asks when they enter the Bentley. Hannibal sighs as he starts up the car. He looks over at Will with an expression of exhaustion.

“Franklyn requires a recommendation to another psychiatrist. Our relationship is vastly different from mine and Franklyn’s.” Hannibal assures him firmly. The radio supplies an excellent static to fill the silence as Hannibal drives Will back to his own home. Hannibal arrives in his driveway within five minutes.

“However, did you enjoy the opera?” Hannibal asks as they exit. Will smiles and lets Hannibal lead him inside. They end up in the living room with their jackets hanging over the sides of the couch.

“I enjoyed watching you react to it. It helped me figure out what was going on.” Will tells him. Hannibal is near the liquor cabinet, making Will a two-finger whiskey drink. Hannibal walks back over and hands it to him. Hannibal sits down on the other side of the couch.

“I’m glad my performance-enhanced your experience.” Hannibal smiles. Will sips the whiskey, humming in delight at the taste.

“Do you think we’ll have a problem in the future with your other patients?” Will asks. Hannibal watches Will as his Adam's apple bobs on another sip of whiskey. Hannibal meets Will’s eyes with a sly smile on his lips.

“My other patients know I’m not someone to bother outside of the office,” Hannibal assures. Will smirks, raising his glass in a mock toast.

“Except for me,” Will announces. Hannibal smiles and raises his hand as if he had a glass too.

“Except for you.” Hannibal echos in a favorable tone.

~*~

Will walks into the hotel room, watching a man grab onto his side that was bleeding profusely. The faint sound of hooves indicates that Will isn’t alone. The man roughly holds Will and pushes him into the wall. Will cries out in pain and tries to make the man off him. Will manages to slam the man into the wall near the bathroom before pulling him into the bathroom. They continue to hurt each other back and forth until Will uses a last burst of strength to throw the man into the bathtub. The man slowly slides down and falls unconscious.

Will climbs into the tub and feels his heartbeat slowly start to die away. Will opens the man’s chest wall with a scalpel and spreads the ribs. Will reaches into the man’s chest, puts his hand around his heart, and gives the man an internal cardiac massage. Breathing hard as he tries desperately to resurrect the bloody man.

“I hate fucking tile,” James swore. James was on his knees, scrubbing the solution to break down blood into the title of the hotel bathroom. Will blinks back into reality. Will finds himself standing by the shower, spraying the walls while James was scrubbing by the tub where blood had leaked onto. The hotel owner had threatened to sue the company if they pulled up the title. They just wanted an external clean of the bathroom area since the body was in one place and relatively fresh. 

“You hate cleaning titles. It could be worse. It could’ve been carpet.” Will jokes as he moves to wipe the blood away. James gags before finally pulling up from the tile to look up at Will.

“When did you and Hannibal get together?” James asks. Will almost trips when he climbs back into the tub.

“W...we’re not together,” Will says defensively. James looks at him, unconvinced.

“You went to my birthday party with him and…” James rips a paper towel off the roll.

“The Baltimore Opera Gazette was positively abuzz with the fact that a prominent Sponsor, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, brought some young eye candy that looked a lot like you.” James narrows his eyes. Will blushes and starts his task, glaring at the wall.

“We’re not dating. Hannibal just invited me to the opera. As a friend.” Will defends. James lifts an eyebrow.

“That arm around your waist says otherwise~” James sings. Will groans, but James doesn’t push further until they finish the job. Giving one final steam spray before taking the garbage out after they dispose of their equipment. James informs the hotel owner they completed before they load up, and James drives them back to the office.

“Just be mindful. Hannibal was your therapist. There’s a reason why they say don’t date therapists.” James warns when they park. Will helps James unload the van, Will sighs.

“I know. We’re taking caution. We’re just friends right now.” Will assures James. James looks at Will for a long time. Will feels a sting of pity for James. James is watching out for him, and Will is keeping him five feet away. Will wonders if James would punch Hannibal if Hannibal had taken things too far.

“Let’s go out tonight. Just straight to the club. You need a destresser.” James demands. Will chuckles nervously, helping James pull the bin into the designated drop off before refilling their supplies.

“What do you mean? Flannels aren’t for the club. I haven’t been there since college.” 

“That’s exactly why we’re going. We’ll watch a drag queen do a jump split and have a plethora of fruity drinks that taste like shit. We’ll text our caretakers one-word responses then turn our phones off. Maybe wake up on a roof in Vegas.” James continues. Will laughs but is more tempted by the minute. He hasn’t had a crazy night out since the last significant break up he had. Hannibal isn’t the one to take him to sketchy clubs or make him cocktails that’ll leave him plastered after one sip. Will needs to feel normal for one night. James always makes him feel normal. Finally, Will sighs in defeat. Smiling at James as the other man beams, knowing he’s won the war.

“We’ll just take my car.” James states.

“Alright. Let’s get changed and have a crazy night.” The two men moved into the locker room at work and changed their work shirts into their lockers’ clothes. Will sits on the bench and takes out his phone. He chooses Hannibal’s contact and starts his text message to him.

[Will]  
Going out with James. Won’t reply until morning.

Will smirks as he turns off his phone. Will puts it back into his pocket as James finishes his own text.

“You are about this?” James asks him. Will makes eye contact with James and feels the worry the other man feels for him. It’s a nice warm feeling. The concern of another person always had that effect on him.

“Yes.” James holds out his hand, and Will takes it confidently. Will is determined to have a great night with James even if it’s at the expense of Hannibal’s sanity.

  
  


~*~

It’s been 4 hours since Will has sent the infamous text message.

[Will]  
Going out with James. Won’t reply until morning - Sent 7:30 PM.

No matter how many texts Hannibal has sent, Will hasn’t replied since. Hannibal made a courtesy call to Post Mortem and was just told they had left for the day without knowing where they were. Hannibal knows they must be in Virginia, and that’s where his knowledge lasts. Currently, Hannibal is driving towards Will’s home, hoping to chew the man out. 

At least that was what he had hoped to do. Instead, he sees James waving his hands up towards the roof when he pulls into the driveway. Hannibal slows down and parks, confusion building up in him. The lights in the home are on; there are two trucks in the driveway. One must’ve been one of Mr. Matthew’s since Hannibal remembers it from the party.

“Will! Stop!” James cries when Hannibal steps out. Hannibal freezes and looks up to the roof. Hannibal nearly has a heart attack at what he sees. Will stumbles to the side while Barney is by the window leading to the roof.

“Will! Get your ass back here!” Barney yells. One hand is hanging out the window, swiping and trying to convince Will to get back inside.

“No! The dogs don’t have any tennis balls!” Will slurs. Bending down and throwing a tennis ball down towards James. James avoids the ball hitting him and keeps his eyes on Will.

“Will! This really isn’t the time to be doing this!” James tries to convince him. Will shakes his head in protest, stumbling again, which causes James to clutch his chest. Hannibal makes his way next to James, which causes the smaller man to jump at his sudden appearance.

“Oh lord, please just let me live through the night. I swear I won’t drink again.” James quietly prays, stepping away from Hannibal to track Will around the roof exterior if he falls.

“William Graham!” Hannibal yells. Will peers down at him sheepishly.

“I will give you 10 seconds to get back inside before I come and retrieve you,” Hannibal tells him calmly. Will pouts at him.

“But all the tennis balls are up here… the dogs don’t have them!” Will yelled down at him, not with as much gusto that he had given to James but enough for Hannibal to deem quite rude.

“Ten.”

“You’re not serious, are you?”

“Nine.”

“Com' on Hannibal!”

“Eight.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Will stumbles his way back to the window, and Barney quickly pulls him through. Hannibal hears a crash and a yelp before the window slams shut and was locked rapidly. James stumbles to the front door with Hannibal following behind him closely. Will descends the stairs and instantly hugs James, glaring at Hannibal.

“I just wanna get the tennis balls for the dogs,” Will mutters while looking at Hannibal. James struggles in Will’s grip.

“I told you to do that tomorrow! Then you’re on a roof!” James slurs, pulling Will away and looking into his eyes with a pout.

“I’m not bringing you back home after drinking again,” James swears. Hannibal elegantly gets in between them and takes Will’s hands away from James, holding Will away from James. Will tries to wiggle out of grip, but it’s futile.

“I’m sorry, Hannibal.” James starts to sob. Barney comes over and picks James up without a word.

“Sorry, I’ll get James out of here…” Barney bows his head as he carries James out to the truck. Hannibal releases Will and watches the man stumble over to his bed and flop onto it. Hannibal hears a car pull out of the driveway before focusing on Will. The first thing he does is help Will out of his shoes with little resistance. Hannibal places the boots by the door and watches Will try to turn over and fall asleep in his clothes.

“Will,” Hannibal says dryly. Will groans and looks over, pouting.

“I’m tired,” Will complains.

“You need to change.” Hannibal sighs. Will continues to glare at him but then smirks. Will points at Hannibal, his hand shaking slightly.

“You look hot when you’re mad,” Will whispers. Hannibal can’t decide if this is the worst or best night he’s had in a while. After the day he’s had, Will reaffirming his attraction to Hannibal was definitely something he needed. Hannibal sighs and sits down next to Will. He takes a hand and starts running his fingers through his curls.

“Have you read the new TattleCrime article?” Hannibal questions softly. Will snuggles closer to Hannibal, putting his head on Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal adjusts himself to make Will comfortable for the drunken man.

“It’s not the ripper. Ripper has variations, but he’s not scared.” Will mutters. Hannibal pauses his petting, Will makes a noise of protest, and Hannibal continues.

“Could there be more than one Ripper?” Hannibal asks. Will makes a weak shake of his head.

“No. Never. There’s only one Ripper.” 

“Do you think it’s an organ harvester?” 

“...I think it’s a scared, pitiful thing that got way in over its head. Now it doesn’t know what to do.” Will whispers, pity lining his voice. Hannibal leans down, and Will looks at him through the side of his eye.

“What about the Ripper?” Hannibal breathes. Will takes a deep breath before looking away. A long exhale following.

“The Ripper used to be a pitiful thing. Something that’s born in hospitals, and they don’t expect it to live the night… but he survives. The Ripper is lonely…and slowly searching for a muse…” Will drifts off to sleep. Hannibal waits until he’s sure Will is dead asleep to remove him from his lap carefully. Keeping Will on his side in case Will throws up in the night. Hannibal pulls the business card from his pocket; he scrutinizes it.

“I’ll leave Will a note.” Hannibal rationalizes. Quickly getting a pen and paper, setting out some morning-after pills for Will in a baggy so he can nurse the hangover better. Hannibal lets the dogs out and gets them back in before turning the lights off and locking the doors. Hannibal just has an errand to run. Will won’t mind. He’ll understand soon enough. Hannibal just needs some more ingredients for the upcoming dinner party... Hannibal gets into his car and starts it up. Hannibal better hurry quickly, or he’ll miss the perfect time for an injured pig to be alone.

~*~

Will has another murder, another crime scene in the shop to be cleaned, and another dinner to prepare with Hannibal. This time Alana is with Hannibal and him. Alana is helping him cut vegetables. He is lost on where and cut into fancy works of art. Hannibal has just put the pig heart into the fridge for another night while Alana quietly giggles at his attempt to make a rose out of a tomato.

“Let’s not patronize Will; he still has much to learn.” Hannibal’s cheerful voice carried in the kitchen. Hannibal had forced them all into matching aprons. Will felt like they were doing arts and crafts for a teacher rather than preparing a meal.

“I need a drink,” Will mutters after almost cutting his finger again on the tomatoes. Will curses, placing down the knife and tomato to glare at them. Alana laughs as Hannibal makes his way over to the fridge.

“How about beer brewed in a wine barrel? Two years. I even bottled it myself.” Hannibal brings a tall glass for the beer out and starts pouring it. Handing the finished glass to Alana, much to Will’s disappointment. Hannibal chuckles at his disappointed expression and places the beer down. Going into the fridge and taking out another bottle.

“I know you prefer whiskey, Will.” Hannibal starts pouring Will a smaller glass of Whiskey. Hannibal gives it to Will with a smile on his lips, and Alana takes a sip from her glass. She tastes the beer carefully before making a small cheer with the glass.

“A Cabernet Sauvignon wine barrel.” Alana proudly states. Will quickly takes a sip of his whiskey.

“Ah. Whiskey barrel.” The trio laughs together, Alana even starting to snort in amusement. Hannibal is the first to regain composure, wiping a faint tear from his eye.

“Yes, your pallets are both lovely.” Hannibal closes the bottles and places them back in the fridge. Closing the doors and making his way back towards the chef's proper place. Alana and Will take a drink break together, watching Hannibal with amusement dancing in their eyes.

“Are you serving these drinks at your dinner party?” Alana asks. Hannibal smiles, shaking his head.

“No, these are your private reserves.” Hannibal smoothly states. Alana and Will share an impressive look. Will finishes his glass, placing it down, and starts to try and make fancy cuts of vegetables again.

“Why, thank you. I’m sure you’ll have to ration it soon enough.” Will jokes. Alana laughs and places her own glass down. Helping Will finish the vegetable cuts expertly.

“Have you’ve told Alana about your recent drunken adventure?” Hannibal brings up a landmine. Tossing it quickly to Will as he brings it up. Will groans, and Alana hums in interest.

“No! Do tell me more, Hannibal.” Alana gives Hannibal her full attention, and Will offers Hannibal a glare.

“Will texted me two days ago at 7:30 at night that he was going out with his co-worker James, telling me not to expect a text back. I waited for a couple of hours and then drove to his home, where I found him _on the roof_ , _drunk_.” Hannibal told her seriously. Alana gasps, giving Will a famous glare that he quickly avoids. Hannibal continues preparing the meat while Will is stuck trying to explain to Alana how and why he had gotten to the roof.

“I was drunk, and all I could remember is the tennis balls were stuck on the roof. I had three people telling me not to!”

“Will! You could’ve broken your legs! Or your neck!”

“Well. I didn’t!”

“I cannot believe you!” Alana exclaims. Hannibal smirks as he listens to the fight. He gracefully cleans his hands, stepping over to his recipe cards, and starts picking out some of his favorites. Pocketing them for later to prepare a feast for his dinner party. The ambient sound of Alana and Will fighting continue to grace his ears. His kitchen was much more lively now. It was soon going to be buzzing with activity. 

“It’s no use fighting now. Let’s prepare for the grand occasion of Will’s first dinner party.” Hannibal switches the topic while looking over his shoulder. Hannibal watches Will roll his eyes, and Alana huff at Will. Hannibal is pleased by the fact that Will has taken off for his dinner party debut. Hannibal is sure how many courses he’s preparing that Will would’ve been much too busy to attend. However, now Hannibal has his full attention for the occasion. Hannibal turns back to the recipes and smirks, closing it after finding the perfect recipe.

“Let’s finish up tonight’s prep work and dinner, without bloodshed.” Hannibal teases.

~*~

Will was sitting across from Abigail, the girl smiling at him blankly. Will wonders if she’s drugged again with how her appearance looked. Will looks around and sees a set of set antlers with a woman penetrated on top of them. Looking back at Abigail, he notices she doesn’t have a scar on her neck any longer.

“I like that it’s just the two of us.” Abigail drones out. Will is unsure how to respond to her. Will slowly nods, acknowledging her.

“Yes. It’s peaceful.” Will admits. Abigail’s expression soured harshly when a faint voice broke the illusion. Her soft, childlike face turned angry and displeased.

“Dad. Someone else is here.” Abigail spits. Will doesn’t understand why she’s so angry at the interruption. A long black hand cups his face gently, and when he blinks again, he’s face to face with Hannibal. The first thing that hits him is how cold he is, looking away from Hannibal to see he’s outside on his porch.

“Will?” Hannibal asks. Will looks back at him, trying to process if he’s real.

“Will.” Hannibal tries again. Hannibal squeezes his fingers on his cheek enough to cause Will to grimace. Will blinks again, his eyes finally focusing in on Hannibal.

“If you wanted to stay home, you could’ve texted me.” Will shakes his head slightly, but Hannibal doesn’t let go.

“...Time?” Will whispers.

“Nine o’clock,” Hannibal informs him. Hannibal pulls his hand away and leans back, looking around the porch and notices some inconsistencies. Will didn’t have his work boots on, the shoes neatly placed inside, yet Will was still wearing his after-work clothes. There wasn’t a jacket protecting Will from the cold. His lips were turning pale.

“How long have you’ve been outside?” Hannibal asks. Will looks confused.

“I… don’t know,” Will admits to him. Hannibal’s eyes narrow.

“Have you been drinking again?” Hannibal accuses. Will frowns and gets up quickly, which sends him into Hannibal's chest unexpectedly. Hannibal holds him steady, and Will looks bewildered.

“No. I’ve been good. Can you take me inside? I don’t feel good.” Will says softly, whatever fight he had dimmed down significantly. Hannibal obliged, holding Will against him and taking him inside his home. Hannibal moves Will into the bathroom, setting him on the toilet before crouching down and looking up at Will.

“Will you allow me to take care of you?” Hannibal whispers huskily. Will swallows hard, nodding his head slowly.

“Just don’t get too… intimate,” Will whispers back to him, his voice cracking slightly. Hannibal nods before getting up and opening up the shower curtain. Hannibal turns the tub on before plugging it, checking the water temperature before moving away from it. Hannibal takes off his coat and jacket and hangs it off the towel rack. Hannibal unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up.

“I’ll contain myself,” Hannibal promised. Hannibal starts unbuttoning Will’s flannel slowly, removing it then his undershirt and placing them off to the side. Next, Will shivers from the cold air hitting his chest. Hannibal pauses to control himself before slowly unbuckling Will’s slacks, helping Will get up slightly to slide them off. All Will is wearing now are his underwear and socks. Hannibal takes hold of his foot, slowly taking one sock off, and then the other pauses again before he can take off Will’s underwear. Hannibal places his fingers on the waistband, and Will takes a sharp breath in.

“Do you trust me?” Hannibal asks softly. Will makes eye contact with him, his cheeks turning a soft red.

“Yes.” Will gasps. Hannibal finally removes his underwear with little resistance. Hannibal stands up and takes Will’s hands, bringing the man to his feet and guiding him into the tub. Will hisses in discomfort as his body adjusts to the heat. Hannibal crouches down again to turn off the tub. Will slowly sinks back into the water, sighing in pleasure as he warms up. Hannibal watches as he relaxes in the tub with a smile on his face.

“You’re still free tomorrow?” Hannibal wonders. Will cracks open an eye to look at him.

“Yes. I don’t believe I have a date with the Chesapeake Ripper.” Will smirks softly. Hannibal chuckles. He cups some water with his hands and pours the water over Will’s hair. Hannibal continues doing this until Will’s hair is all wet. Hannibal reluctantly gets a 2 in 1 shampoo that he recognizes the smell of from Will. He lathers his hands in it before Will adjusts himself in the tub vertically so Hannibal can massage his scalp.

“Does it really pain you to use that shampoo?”

“If I must use it for you tonight, I will. However, I might gift you some better shampoo AND conditioner for your hair. You’re abusing your natural curls.” Hannibal sighs. Will chuckles at his response, moving back to horizontal so Hannibal can wash the soap out of his hair.

  
  


“Thank you, Hannibal,” Will tells him, looking at the other man with a big smile. Will looks much more relaxed than he had previously. Hannibal feels the distinct urge to either kiss Will until his lips are bloody. It troubles Hannibal, but after taking a few deep breaths, Hannibal shoves his desires down.

“Anything for you, sweet William.” Hannibal places a hand on the side of Will’s face, his thumb slowly rubbing Will’s cheek. Hannibal decides there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be. He wonders if Will feels the same way about this moment. Judging by how Will is fighting to stay awake, Hannibal would say yes.

~*~

Will stands to the side of the kitchen, watching the hustle and bustle around it. Hannibal had made him dress in something other than flannel and plain slacks. Borrow a fancy shirt and his tuxedo slacks with a nice pair of shoes to match. Hannibal was directing the kitchen staff, and Will felt pretty useless in the long run.

“Are you sure I won’t be a terrible company?” Will asked nervously. Hannibal places his hands on the counter calmly, looking over to him with a reassuring smile.

“You’re the star guest. Your company is very much welcomed.” Hannibal sighs. Will moves slightly closer, watching his hands work the tomato dish. Hannibal doesn’t pay any mind to Will’s curious peaking.

“Why’d you stop being a surgeon?”

“An interesting question to ask as always.”

“Sorry…”

“No need. I killed someone. More accurately, I couldn’t save someone. I felt like I was responsible for killing them.”

“Doesn’t death frequently come in the ER?” Will leans over, peering as Hannibal empties the mixture into another bowl.

“One time too many for me. I put focus back into the culinary arts, I mend minds instead of limbs, and no one has died due to my therapy.” Hannibal smiles at the last part. Will chuckles, adjusting himself to lean on the counter to watch Hannibal’s craftsmanship preparing such a meal. Hannibal stops stirring before grinning up at Will.

“Why don’t you get my clothes out of my closet and on the bed? I’ll only be down here for a few moments more. The staff here are well adapted for preparing everything for my guests.” Hannibal suggested. Will nods and makes his way out of the kitchen and to the upstairs. Will slows his footsteps to be in front of Hannibal’s bedroom, opening it and turning on the light. The memory of angels praying over him lingered on the bed, but Will ignored them to step into the walk-in closet. Will gently touched the suits until he found the one still in dry cleaning plastic. Smirking at Hannibal’s obviousness, Will took it off the hanger. As he started to bring it to the bed, a card caught his interest on the ground. It was tucked underneath the suits inconspicuously. Will slowly placed the suit on the bed and walked back into the closet, crouching down and picking the card up.

“Will?” Hannibal asked. Will jumps up, the card still in his hand. Will smiles as he steps out of the closet with the card.

“I think you forgot to throw away a dry cleaning card.” As Will goes to turn it over, Hannibal has his hand over his hand and another under Will’s chin. Will looks at Hannibal in surprise, a blush dusting his cheeks. Will numbly feels the card being taken out of his hand, and Will giggles.

“Are you afraid I’ll start using your dry cleaning company?” Will teases. Hannibal chuckles as he removes his hands from Will.

“No, I just thought I saw tomato sauce on your cheek. I was double-checking.” Hannibal quickly tells him. Will hums, raising an eyebrow at Hannibal.

“If you say so. I’ll let you get ready. I’ll be hiding from the guests if you need me.” Will happily tells him. Will brushes past him and leaves Hannibal in his room. Hannibal looks down at the business card he had carelessly forgotten about. It seems Hannibal needs to do a deep cleaning, now that it seems Will is a magnet for his dirty secrets. Hannibal rips up the card and throws it away, elegantly removing his food prep clothes to change into a more formal tux. Hannibal checks the time and finds it’s almost time for the first guests to arrive. With more aesthetic changes to his outfits, he heads downstairs just as the doorbell rings.

Soon all the guests arrive at Hannibal’s home. Hannibal is socializing with each guest while Will only talks with Alana, the only guest he truly knows. Hannibal lets the appetizers sit in the guest’s stomachs before the main course is announced. Everyone files into the dining room, taking their marked seat that Hannibal had painstakingly written and planned out. Will is caught by Hannibal, who takes his hand and leads him to the right chair next to the host’s chair. Alana sits next to Will, watching as Hannibal pushes in his chair. Understanding starting to find its way into her eyes.

Applause greets Hannibal as he stands at the table’s head, proudly looking at all his guests. Letting his eyes linger on Will for a second longer before he looks out and smiles at his table.

“As you all may know, I held this dinner party in honor of my dear friend Will Graham. Some of you might recognize him from the opera we attend together. I ask you to play nicely with him.” Hannibal looks over at Will, a happy smile seemingly permanently on his lips. A few guests chuckle softly, and Hannibal raises a finger to quiet them.

“Before we begin, you must all be warned: nothing here… is vegetarian. Bon appétit.” Hannibal raises his wine glass and sips it before sitting down, and the guests start to receive their portions. Hannibal takes careful notice of Will’s mannerisms, watching as he blended into the conversations happening around him. 

The party continues with no interruptions or surprises. Will manages to hold a conversation with Mrs. Komeda longer than Hannibal expected. Alana becomes his crutch only a few times during the night. By the time guests started leaving, they were all over how polite Will was, how Hannibal was so lucky to find such a nice young man to be friends with, etc. Alana is the last to leave, giving Hannibal a suspicious look while giving Will a worried one but leaving without saying anything more.

The two men silently clean up the remains of the party, the hired help leaving after their time is up. Will quietly touches a bouquet on display. Hannibal pauses his tablecloth clean up to watch Will.

“What are you curious about?” Hannibal asks.

“Green carnations?” Will picks said flower out, pointing it to Hannibal. Hannibal hums in appreciation.

“Do you know why I picked them?”

“I believe you already know the answer to that.” They stare at each other before Will slowly puts the flower back.

“What about the other flowers? I don’t recognize them.” Will mutters.

“They’re Sweet Williams.” Hannibal hears a vase drop to the floor and break. Will was looking at it in shock.

“Fuck— sorry.” 

Hannibal stops Will before the man tries to bend down and pick up the broken pieces. Will looks at him in the eyes. The silence between them is loud. Hannibal slowly releases his grip on Will and guides the man into the kitchen to get a broom.

“...Did you seriously announce, in flowers, to your whole dinner party that you were interested in me? I didn’t know you cared for symbolism so much.” Will slowly tells him. Hannibal pauses for his search for a broom. He turns around Hannibal, leans down, and kisses Will’s forehead tenderly before looking into his eyes with a tender look on his face.

“I want nothing more than to be yours. We only have to wait a few more months.” Hannibal softly whispers. Will pouts softly.

“I don’t think I can handle another month if you keep pulling stunts like these,” Willa admits. Hannibal chuckles, grabbing the side of his face again. Will was leaning into his hand in a tender moment between them.

“The sweeter the reward will be when we finally seal our relationship,” Hannibal promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, able to update after my surgery! I have Chapter 8 also in the workshop, so keep an eye open for it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Will descends further down the path of madness, Hannibal and he finds solace with each other, except Hannibal just so happens to be "unintentionally" provoking thing he shouldn't be.
> 
> It's happening. Also please comment if you prefer to have a warning that gives you the option to skip sex scenes! I'll keep it in mind for future chapters!

Will spends his weekend off with a light breakfast. Will walks around the house with a coffee in hand while reading the news in the other. Will decides to get dressed by noon, going out into his big barn and getting an old boat motor he had put on the back burner due to his recent life crisis. Will sets it up on the living room floor, laying down with his toolbox beside him as he starts to tinker on it. It takes almost 30 minutes of pure silence before the distinct sound of an injured animal catches his ear. Will stops working and looks around at his dogs, seeing if they’re also reacting to the sound. Will ignores it and tries to tinker on the motor again before the sound returns, closer this time.

“God damn it.” Will curses. Will puts the tools away and gets up. Throwing on a jacket before stomping his way outside. Once out the front door, the sound is close by the field next to his home. Will jogs towards it, stopping when he realizes it’s coming from all sides of him. Will cautiously takes out his phone, clicking the first person he thinks of who isn’t busy.

“Hello?”

“Want to find an injured wild animal?”

“...sure.” Alana sighs. She hangs up, and Will goes back inside his home. Getting ready for Alana’s car to pull up in the driveway. In the meantime, he feeds the dogs and has them do their laps outside. Once they’re inside, Alana’s hybrid pulls up in the driveway, seemingly perfectly timed. Will comes out, this time putting on a hat and gloves.

“Mind telling why you called me out here?” Alana deadpans. Will gives a sheepish grin.

“I didn’t want to look alone.” They start circling the property before heading towards the woods ever so slowly. Will has a distinct sense of dread filled him.

“Honestly, it sounded like it was dying…” Will admits. Alana gives him an unimpressed look.

“It could be two foxes mating. I heard it sounds like a woman screaming.” Alana buts in. Will shakes his head.

“No, it sounded injured, but we’ll be lucky if we find a paw.” Will watches Alana tilt her head back and forth in confusion.

“You invited me over to collect animal parts?”

“Yes, I’ve been taking up vulture culture lately.” That earned Will a punch in the shoulder, Will chuckling as he rubbed the now sore spot.

“No. In case it was alive, it’s better to have two people handle it.” Will pauses before glancing at her.

“Did you think it was a date?” 

“Unless I was the last one to receive the memo that pigs can fly, no,” Alana replies dryly. Will feels the conversation has become quite strained. Instead, he stops while looking at her for answers.

“Have you’ve found somebody?” Will asks. Alana pauses, turning around to look at him.

“No. It seems like you’ve found someone.”

“Alana, we’re not together. We’re just friends.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Those green carnations and sweet williams Hannibal decorated the dinner party with were _screamed_ friendship.” Alana puts her hands on her hips in a disappointed mother pose.

“I swear. However…” Will looks around the ground, only finding his and Alana’s shoe prints with a distinct lack of animal ones.

“I think we lost it, whatever it was.”

~*~

Will finds himself popping more Tylenol today. After the animal cries incident with Alana, Will’s headaches have become more and more of a nuisance. Will and James walked into their next cleaning job at the Baltimore Concert Hall. Making their way into the auditorium where the victim was horrifically displayed for the opening employee. Will had seen the picture briefly enough to know that a chair and body was missing from the scene. Luckily for them, the victim was mostly bled out before, Will paused at that thought.

“What’re you doing? Let's get this over with before they sue us for “staying too long” or something.” James sighs. Hauling the steamer up the stairs of the stage before rolling it to where they needed it. James unwrapped the extension cord while Will stood with the hose. Will looked out into the sea of seats. A feeling of being watched caused goosebumps to spring upon his arms. Will shivered to lose the mood, but it persisted.

“It’s in!” James yelled. Will turned the steamer on and started to spray the wood, swaying as he worked the machine. Will’s thoughts were interrupted by a haunting cello melody. When Will looks around, he sees the horned man with his sharp claws holding a bow. The man slowly continues his playing as Will rounds in front of him. He watches in awe at the human cello, his vocal cords vibrating as they’re played. The man makes eye contact with him, and Will finds himself frozen in his spot.

“Had to open him up to get a decent sound out.” The man's voice is a jumble of noises he’s heard before. It echoed in the auditorium.

“Why?” Will whispered. Will is confused by why the usually silent man only spoke now. The man smiles, jagged teeth showing themselves to Will. The man stops playing and points his bow past Will. Will turns around and sees Garret Jacob Hobbs, who starts to clap slowly. When Will turns back, the space is empty, the steamer still running in his hand. James is wrapping paper towels around his hand, preparing to start cleaning up. James looks up at Will, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Why’d you stop? You seem to be spacing out more today.” James says in a worried tone. Will finds himself frowning at the concern; instead, he turns back to his task.

“Just a headache.” Will dismisses. James shrugs and kneels to start wiping whatever they can get off the floor. Will turned the steamer off and looked back to the auditorium seats. There’s no Hobbs anymore, but a long-horned shadow stays in his peripheral. The clapping noise was deafening in his ears.

Time slows down for Will as he feels himself moving, but he’s not consciously making an effort. The world seems to dissipate into a blur around him while he’s stuck in slow motion. It’s until he finds himself in Hannibal’s home with the clock blinking on 12:30 PM is when Will snaps out of it. Hannibal is cutting up a sandwich into fours, separating two and plating them. Will composes himself quickly, trying not to look rattled by the sudden change in scenery.

“A roast beef sandwich with sharp pepper jack cheese,” Hannibal announces the meal. Will takes his plate and bites into the sandwich. The flavor simmers his nerves, and Will finds himself eating the whole sandwich without a second thought.

“You had to clean up the human cello case today, correct? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come over to my home so early.” Hannibal says in a quizzical tone.

“Yes. It was much easier than most cleanings… more to do with sanitation. The victim didn’t have too much blood to bleed.” Will explains. Hannibal slowly eats his sandwich. Will wonders how someone can make eating a sandwich look elegant, but Hannibal seems to have done the impossible. 

“Did you see anything?”

Will is distracted by a shadow on the floor. It looks as if it’s growling and slowly wrapping itself around Will’s feet. Will lifts his knee and is relieved when he doesn’t feel it being held.

“I saw myself. I heard a serenade, a musician showing how well he plays.” The instant the words left his mouth, he found himself regretting them. Will frowns and looks away. He looks back to the shadow on the floor. Hannibal stays silent before the sound of a plate being put in the sink causes Will to look up at him.

“I require new strings for my Harpsichord. Would you like to accompany me to the nearby string shop? It’s called Chordophone String Shop.” 

Will perks up at the name. Will recognizes it well. It’s the string shop he found online. Will hadn’t done extensive research on it but knows the reviews were well enough. Will smiles at Hannibal, excited.

“Sure. I need new strings for my piano. I looked them up before; what a coincidence.” Will says. Will puts his plate in the sink, and Hannibal chuckles at his enthusiasm. They leave the dishes there as they walk to the front door, putting their coats on, Hannibal putting on fancy leather gloves before they exit. Hannibal locks the door before opening the Bently. They buckle up, and Hannibal gives them a smooth drive over to the shop. When they park, Will is the first one out, heading into the shop. Hannibal quickly gains the lead and pauses when cello music is heard. Hannibal accesses the door and opens it quickly, catching the bell, so it doesn’t ring.

“What are you doing?” Will whispers. Hannibal answers him with a gentle smile. Hannibal opens the door for him and when they’re both in Hannibal, holds the bell until the door is shut. They walk inside and listen to the melody. Hannibal guides him around the room, inspecting the strings. Will notices a little too late that all the strings are gut, discomfort building in his stomach. It takes a moment longer before the cello music stops. Tobias walks out from the room, looking between the two men, surprised.

“You’re Franklyn’s therapist, Dr. Lecter.” Tobias takes a careful once over to Will, looking him up and down. Will frowns at the attention.

“And you’re Dr. Lecter’s partner. Nice to see you both.” Hannibal moves in front of Will, acting as a shield between him and Tobias.

“Tobias, is it? Your strings are all gut.” Hannibal observes. 

“I carry other types of string if you prefer.” Tobias makes sure to give Will a look. Tobias must’ve noticed his discomfort. Will makes a short nod, and Hannibal picks a string.

“I prefer gut string.”  
  


Tobias is finally behind the front desk. He shifts into a more defensive position. “I didn’t hear you ring the bell.”

“Hannibal didn’t want you to stop playing. He has an ear for music.” Will informs. Tobias gives Will a grin; somehow, Tobias reminds him of Matthew Brown. An unsettled feeling rising in his chest now, Will doesn’t find himself enjoying this trip with Hannibal.

“Something I’m working on. You compose?” Tobias asks, his eyes turning to Hannibal with newfound interest. The two men begin to talk while Will slowly tunes out the conversation. He finds himself looking for the exit before a shadow in the corner catches his attention. Will slowly moves towards it, feeling Tobias and Hannibal’s eyes in his back. Will stares into a cello’s soundhole, watching a shadow twitch and crawl out of it. It’s small until it starts to build itself, from the other instruments soundholes until it hits the ceiling. It’s thin, starved with hands that look like bows and a gap in its gut with strings attaching vertically to the other side. 

“Will.”  
  


A hand is on his shoulder, and Will takes a startled breath. Will turns to look over and up at Hannibal.

“Sorry I got lost.” Will apologizes. Hannibal gives him a reassuring smile.

“I set up our appointments already. Let's get you home.” Hannibal whispers. Will nods dumbly, letting Hannibal guide him out as Tobias simply stares at the pair. When he looks back to the corner, no creature appears or sends him off.

~*~

Will is sitting at his desk, carefully wrapping fly fish lures for a later date. Will has been doing this for a couple of hours since Hannibal had been kind enough to drop him off back home. His peaceful night is only interrupted by a faint scratching sound. Will pauses and looks over at his fireplace. The sound gets more frantic and crazed as he gets closer. Anxiety fills him; he looks up into the chimney first before pressing his ear to it.

“Fuck.” Will curses. Will quickly heads out to his barn and grabs a sledgehammer. Will feels the weight in his hands and makes a mock swing before nodding. Will walked back to his house, placing the hammer down to corralled the dogs upstairs. Will cleans the front of the chimney of the dog beds in case the animal comes out. Then he took the hammer and smashed it into the chimney wall. The animal grew more desperate, as Will did. This went on until there was an open wound in the wall but no animal. Will stares at the wall before taking his phone out and calls the first number popped into his head.

“Hello?” A tired Alana asked.

“I… there was an animal in my chimney. I just smashed open my chimney.” Will stammers. Will hears Alana shift on the other line, adjusting her position to talk to him.

“W...What kind of animal was it?” 

“Might’ve been a raccoon.”

“Might’ve been?”

“There’s no animal,” Will whispers.

“Will stay where you are. I’m coming over,” Alana commands. Will makes a displeased noise at the command.

“No. I’m going out.” Will hangs up. He places the hammer on the chimney and cleans up the best he can before letting the dogs back down. Once he’s assured the dogs won’t eat any debris, he gets his keys, locking the door before hopping into his car. Making his way to the only place that has been a constant for him.

Will drives towards Hannibal’s home. Will doesn’t feel time pass as he moves. Will should be worried, but Will’s determined to close the distance between him and Hannibal. He’s at a red light when the faint sound of scratching causes him to glance over. The horned man sits in the passenger seat. He stopped scratching the window when Will acknowledged him. Will stares at him until a horn honking causes him to focus back on driving. Will makes it into Hannibal’s driveway; the park’s hastily before taking the keys and knocking frantically on the door. Will paces until Hannibal opens it, Will is immediately stepping through the door, stopping in front of Hannibal.

“Let’s stop pretending, Hannibal,” Will whispers. He grabs the sides of Hannibal’s face, and they crash together like ocean waves. Their first kiss is rough, teeth trying to find each other lips to bite. Hannibal manages to close the door but not before Will pressed him against the wall to continue kissing him. Hannibal takes one hand and brings it into Will’s hair before yanking his head back.

“We still have a few months to get through,” Hannibal growls. Will laughs breathlessly. Hannibal is memorized by how pink his lips look. A desperate need to turn them red hit him.

“Fuck it.” 

This time Hannibal initiates the kiss. It’s more passionate this time. Will has his hands on Hannibal’s chest, fumbling with his buttons. Hannibal moves his hands down to Will’s waist, and Will wraps his arms around Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal is ready when he feels Will tense up to jump, wrapping his legs around Hannibal’s waist and Hannibal holding him by his thighs. Will pulls back, gasping for air.

“Take me to bed?” Will pleads. Hannibal only obliges by carrying Will up the stairs and into his bedroom. When they enter the bedroom, Hannibal leans down to place Will onto the bed. Hannibal steps back to admire Will, slowly taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Will sits up, kicks his shoes off, and is stopped by Hannibal before taking his clothes off.

“Allow me.” Hannibal takes both ends of Will’s shirt and pulls them apart, ripping the shirt open. Will barks out an excited laugh before being silenced by another kiss. Hannibal helps him remove the destroyed shirt before working on removing Will’s pants. Will throws his head back when Hannibal brushes against his cock, teasing him.

“Get naked,” Will murmured to him. Hannibal chuckles as he kisses Will again, unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. Hannibal moves forward to coax Will to fall back down. Hannibal removes his belt and takes Will’s hands, and traps them within the strap, tightening it so Will can’t wiggle his hand out.

“Be patient,” Hannibal growls, taking Will’s chin with a hand and turning his head to the side. Hannibal places his mouth on the exposed neck. Will groans as Hannibal starts to bite his neck and to suck on it. Will hissing when it starts to hurt too much in which Hannibal moves over to another spot. Hannibal uses a free hand to unbutton his hands and push them down to his thighs. Hannibal pulls back to step out of his pants. Hannibal doesn’t take off his underwear yet, moving to the side drawer and getting lube and a few condoms out. Will spreads his legs then closes them when Hannibal attempts to touch his thighs. Will giggles mischievously at the exasperated look Hannibal gives him.

“Such a Rude Boy… how do you feel about punishment?” Hannibal says softly, an irritated undertone in his voice. Will smiles and flips himself over on his stomach, wiggling his hips to tease Hannibal.

“My safe word is Lagniappe.” 

“Lan-yap?” Hannibal tries the word on his tongue, a confused look on his face, making Will laugh.

“I’ll tell you later. I thought you promised some punishment.” Will wiggle his hips again, but Hannibal composes himself, moving to kneel next to Will with the supplies close to them. Hannibal puts his head by the back of Will’s neck and kisses it sweetly as his hand rubs Will’s plump butt. In a flash Hannibal spanks Will, which causes him to cry out, whimpering but still shaking his hips for more.

“One, sir.” Will counts. Hannibal makes a pleased hum, pleased that Will knows what to do so he didn’t have to teach him. Hannibal continues to kiss his neck. The fragrance of cinnamon, pine, and fever fills his nose as he continues to kiss Will’s neck but spank him relentlessly in return. Hannibal finally stops his attack when Will’s whimpers go up an octave in pain. He sits back and admires Will’s now red ass cheeks, Will’s legs shaking from pain yet his cock red, aching, and leaking precum. Hannibal leans to Will’s face, seeing tears down his cheeks, and kisses them tenderly. Will whines in protest but doesn’t fight any further. Hannibal takes the lube and opens it, lubing up his fingers.

“You’re such a good boy for taking your punishment. You deserve a reward.” Hannibal purrs. Hannibal’s fingers trace Will’s hole slowly before he inserted the first finger in. Will gasps in surprise but quickly groans in pleasure when Hannibal starts to tease his prostate at a slow pace. Hannibal waits for Will to relax before adding another finger. Will shifts in discomfort but settles quickly. Hannibal watches as he starts to rock his hips back to take the fingers in deeper.

“Please fuck me, sir.” Will pleads. Hannibal smiles at his begging yet continues to stretch him.

“Not yet, Will. You’re not stretched out enough.” Hannibal softly advised. Will whines in protest again, but Hannibal doesn’t let him have his way. Calmly stretching out Will enough for another finger. When three fingers are inside of Will, Hannibal senses Will growing impatient. Will tries fuck his hips back on his fingers and get Hannibal to move faster. 

“Come on. I’m stretched!” Will complains. Hannibal raised a single eyebrow before adjusting his arm and slammed his fingers into Will’s prostate. The reaction is an instant moan and his hips jolting up in shock. Will takes the new position of face down with his ass up in the air to be easily used by Hannibal. His cock twitches in agony at being ignored for so long. Hannibal pulls his fingers back and slams them back in, starting a brutal attack against Will’s prostate. Will gasps and groans. His legs were shaking every time Hannibal makes contact with it. After a few minutes of this, Will’s moans turn into soft sobs of pleasure.

“I...I’m sorry, s...sir!” Will sobbed out. Hannibal slows his pace again, Will’s body going slack out of exhaustion. Will pants as he starts to steady himself again. Hannibal slowly pulls his fingers out of his anal cavity and gets off the bed. Hannibal takes off his underwear, before Hannibal grabs the condom, Will makes a noise of protest.

“Put the condom in my mouth.... I’ll show you what I learned in college… sir.” Will makes a tempting offer, Hannibal obliged and got onto his bed where Will’s face was. Hannibal opens the condom and gently places the condom into Will’s mouth. He watches Will adjust his lips to hold the condom before looking up at Hannibal. Hannibal moves his hips close to Will and watches in awe as Will pushes his entire length into his mouth. Pausing when Hannibal touches the back of his throat before slowly moving his head back. The condom now on the entirety of Hannibal’s length. Will grins at the awed expression on Hannibal’s face.

“Please, sir, I want you to fuck me.” Hannibal blinks away his awe; he gives a smile before getting off the bed again and going behind Will. Hannibal pours more lube on his length and Will’s ass for a safety measure before slowly pushing himself in. As he bottoms out, Hannibal groans. Will clamps down on him as the younger man tries to adjust to the cock now inside of him. Will takes some deep breaths before looking back at Hannibal, relaxing his ass the best he can. Hannibal places a hand on Will’s hip as he pulls out slowly before slamming back in. Will groans as Hannibal repeats this a couple more times before finding a rhythm and fucking him ruthlessly. 

“O… Oh!” Will gasps out. Hannibal brings Will up and has him against his chest as he continues to fuck him. Hannibal’s hand reaches up to put pressure against Will’s windpipe, and Will legs his hands hang down so Will can jerk himself. When Hannibal feels Will start to clench down on his cock he releases the grip on Will’s neck and instead uses it to turn Will’s head to the side and kiss him. Will groans loudly as his hips jerk, and his ass spasms on Hannibal’s cock as Will cums. Hannibal bottoms out inside of Will and groans as he cums with him. They pull away from the kiss, panting and exhausted. Sweat dripping from their brows, Will falls slack against Hannibal, who’s still inside him. Hannibal swallows harshly before giving a small hiss as he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Will pants. Hannibal guides Will to lay down, taking the belt off his bruised wrists. Hannibal takes the condom off and disposes of it. Hannibal sits on the side of Will, watching the man regain his breath.

“Dear, do you want a shower or a bath?” Hannibal asks. Will blinks up at him, giving a loopy smile.

“Shower, but my legs are all jello right now,” Will admits. Hannibal smiles down at him, leaning down to kiss Will’s abused red lips, and bites the bottom teasingly. Will laughs and places his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders. When Hannibal pulls back, Will manages to lean up to give him a peck on the lips.

“Carry me?” Will says in a seductive tone. Hannibal sighs but obliges when he stands up again. Hannibal princess carries Will into his bathroom, placing him on the toilet carefully as he walks over to the shower to get it to a pleasant temperature.

“Your shower was hard to figure out at first. It looked like spaceship controls.” Will smiles at him. Hannibal helps him stand up, get into the shower, and enter after him. Hannibal watches Will sigh and relax at the shower spray. He reaches over to grab the soap bar and starts using the bar to clean Will, which makes him giggle and squirm.

“I’m not a child, Hannibal! I can clean myself.” Yet Will gives no further protests as Hannibal lathers him in soap, leaving his genitals alone and giving Will the bar to clean them.

“Oh, so that’s what you won’t clean.” Will sasses. Hannibal chuckles, turning Will around to face him.

“I think we both touched enough cock tonight, my dear,” Hannibal says in a husky whisper. Will blushes and looks away and slowly starts cleaning his privates. They switch sides after Will rinses off. Hannibal tenses in surprise when Will starts rubbing the soap bar over his chest.

“Shower sex is dangerous. A study said that 19,000 people die from slipping in the shower.” Hannibal quotes. Will snorts at his statement but continues to clean Hannibal.

“Okay, grandpa, get a shower railing in here then.” Will remarks. The reaction is almost instantaneous. Hannibal turns around and presses Will against the shower wall with his arms above his head. Will gasps and arches, and Hannibal's leg goes between his legs. Will’s eyes flutter, and his cheeks bright red as Hannibal leans down to the side of his head. Will stretches out his neck to give Hannibal full access to it. Will has already started to get large bruises around his neck from where Hannibal assaulted it earlier. Instead, he bites Will’s ear, Will whimpers as Hannibal opens his legs and places a hand on his hip, gripping his ass vigorously.

“You’re very spoiled, I rewarded you after punishment, and now you’re insulting me. Did you do it on purpose?” Hannibal growls into his ear. Will gives a short nod, and Hannibal squeezes his sore ass again.

“Answer with your words.” He demands. 

“Y…Yes, sir.” Will stutters out.

“Yes, sir, what?” Will whimpers again, in pleasure this time, when Hannibal moves his grip from his ass cheeks to around his rim. Hannibal rubs around the ruined and loose hole slow and methodically. 

“Yes, sir, I wanted to be punished,” Will admits breathlessly. Hannibal looks into his red-rimmed eyes, seeing Will’s blue iris’ pleading for him. Oh, how beautiful he looks with his pink lips turned red from his biting. The feeling of Will’s twitching hole around his finger asking to be fucked, and Will’s cock already getting hard from excitement. Hannibal just cannot leave him unpunished. His rudeness needed to be corrected somehow. 

“Good boy.” Hannibal leans down to take a pink erect nipple into his mouth, sucking on it before biting it. Will cries out as Hannibal puts two fingers inside of him and teases his prostate. Will arches into the punishment, putting his leg up on a shower ledge to provide Hannibal with more access to his hole.

“Holy shit.” Will curses as Hannibal adds another finger and roughly bites his nipple again. Will winces when it gets too much. That’s when Hannibal releases the nipple from his mouth and moves to the next one. Giving it the same rough treatment to Will’s delight. By the time Hannibal pulls away from his nipples, they’re red and bruised in some places, Will’s cock is fully erect, and his hole is ready to be fucked again.

“Are you comfortable with me fucking you without a condom?” Hannibal asks. Will shyly nods, gazing into Hannibal’s eyes.

“I got tested just in case… you?” Hannibal smirks and moves close to Will, realizing his wrists to let Will wrap his arms around his neck again.

“A clean bill of health.” Hannibal picks up Will again, Will quickly wrapping his legs around Hannibal’s waist. Hannibal is supporting him against the wall, and thrusts into Will without any resistance. Will moans loudly at the feeling of Hannibal fucking him again. Will’s nails leave deep scratches on Hannibal’s back from Will raking his hands up and down Hannibal’s back. Hannibal makes sure Will is securely against the wall, and he’s able to move without slipping before he pulls almost all the way out and back in. Will puts his head back against the wall as Hannibal starts fucking him by repeating the earlier motion.  
  


Hannibal leans down to bite at Will’s Adam’s apple, sucking while he’s biting before releasing the sensitive skin and attacking an unmarked spot of his neck. Every time he bites down, Will tightens around him, Hannibal finds it immensely pleasurable. Hannibal continues this scathing attack until Will has almost no unmarked parts of his neck. Instead, Hannibal moves into his clavicle. He finds it harder to suck on the skin but is determined to continue to mark up am Will.

“H...Hannibal, I’m close.” Will whispers to him. Hannibal moves a hand to start to jerk Will off, only holding Will with one hand as Will keeps his wrapped around his waist. Hannibal feels Will’s legs begin to shake, and his hole starts to spasm. Hannibal quickly kisses Will as his cum spills into Hannibal’s hand. Seconds later, Hannibal’s hips stutter to a stop inside of Will as he reaches his orgasm and cums inside of Will’s hole. Hannibal pulls away from the kiss and leans his head against the shower wall next to Will’s, panting. Will is out of breath but leans his head against Hannibal’s and gives Hannibal a weak squeeze of his arms like a hug. Hannibal slowly helps Will back onto his feet, Will’s balance now completely ruined as he starts to stumble the second he tries to walk. Hannibal supports him, and they finally get their hair wet so they can wash it.

“Are you going to clean yourself here or on the toilet?” Hannibal asks. Will’s cheeks turn a bright red, and he looks at Hannibal mortified.

“Can we not talk about that? It’s embarrassing.” Will says in a hoarse tone. Hannibal chuckles and reaches down to rub a finger around Will’s hole. Will takes a hand and slaps it away, blushing hard.

“No! I’ll take care of it. Just because you’re a doctor doesn’t mean you’re going to clean out your cum from my ass.” Will scolds, embarrassed. Hannibal laughs as he shakes his head, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, then how about you allow me to shampoo your hair.” Will gives him a stern glare but slowly turns back around to get his hair all wet. After wetting it, Hannibal takes the showerhead off. He flips a switch to adjust it to a lower flow and takes Will’s hand to sit down, grabbing the shampoo and conditioner before getting on the floor. Hannibal has Will sit in between his legs. Hannibal uncaps the shampoo, lathering his hands up before massaging Will’s scalp. Will groans at the touch, leaning back more for Hannibal to continue working for his hands through his hair.

“Do you want me also to give you a massage after we’re out of the shower?” Hannibal asks in a soft tone. Will sighs in relief when Hannibal works out a knot from his hair.

“No, but I want to do this to your hair too. Maybe help you finish with your soap…” Hannibal gives a hearty chuckle. Hannibal takes the shower head and starts rising off Will’s hair, carefully not to get any shampoo into his eyes.

“I don’t think a third round will be beneficial to us.” Hannibal chuckles as Will looks back to pout at him. Hannibal takes the conditioner to put it into Will’s hair to soften his hair. Maybe Will’s rings of curls won't be abused by his 2 in 1 shampoo anymore; that’s Hannibal’s dream.

“I have dessert downstairs. I had a guest before you came over, and they left when you arrived. I need to clean that up before I have unwanted dinner guests.” Hannibal informs him, Will huffs but doesn’t argue further.

“...Can I wear your red sweater to bed?” Will looks at him with his big blue puppy dog eyes, and Hannibal can’t find the heart to say no to him.

“As you wish.” Hannibal sighs in defeat. Will taps his feet excitedly, and Hannibal helps rinse out the conditioner. By the time it’s all washed out, Will’s hair is silky smooth. It’s Hannibal’s turn now, so Hannibal turns around, and Will goes on his knees to get a better angle to wash his head. Will copies what Hannibal had done. He’s careful at every scrub, worried if he pulled or went too rough that Hannibal could break. Hannibal tries to hide the amused smile on his face. It’s obviously Will’s first time washing someone else’s hair. He doesn’t want to hurt Hannibal. Will rinses out the shampoo and puts the conditioner in.

“What's the dessert?” Says a curious Will. Hannibal turns to look back at him, a pleased smile on his face.

“Worked up an appetite?” Hannibal teased. Will glares at him, but there’s no heat behind it. Hannibal lets Will tilt his head back to wash the conditioner out of his hair. Hannibal hands him the bar of soap, and Will rubs it all over but steers away from his privates, which Hannibal was thankful for.

“I made bread pudding with mango, kiwi, star fruit, Guava fruit, mangosteen, and rambutan, garnished with cream, chocolate curls, and pomegranate sauce.” Hannibal happily informs him. Hannibal stands up, offering a hand to help Will up. Will takes his hand without hesitation. They both get once last spot clean and rinse off before Hannibal turns the water off and gets out, taking two towels from the towel rack and gifting one to Will.

They leave the bathroom, and Will limps towards Hannibal’s dresser, taking out the red sweater he claimed. Putting it on quickly, Will gets his underwear from his discarded pants and puts them on. Will rubs the towel over his hair while Hannibal takes his time getting ready and drying himself off. Will goes downstairs quickly to clean up the dinner table before Hannibal comes down and watches Will from the kitchen entrance as he cleans each dish. 

“You look dashing in red,” Hannibal speaks up, walking into the kitchen. Hannibal walks up behind Will and wraps his arms around his wrist, shifting from side to side with Will and kissing his cheek.

“You’re just saying that because I’m in your clothes.” Will snorts. Hannibal doesn’t argue that still holding onto him even as he finishes the dishes. Will sighs and leans against him.

“What’s your policy on kitchen sex?” Will asks curiously. 

“The kitchen is sacred. I will not have you over the sink or counter. However, everywhere else, we’ll discuss.” Hannibal tells him. Hannibal removes himself to take the pudding out of the oven. Hannibal hums at it as he places it down.

“I’m surprised it’s not charred.” Will pipes up. Hannibal smiles at his attentiveness. Hannibal plates the pudding wordlessly.

“A Christmas miracle.” Hannibal jokes before going to the fridge next and takes out whipped cream to put on top of them. Will rolls his eyes but smiles regardless.

“Why’d you drive an hour in the snow to consummate our relationship?” Hannibal asks. Will’s smile fades, and a troubled look overtakes his features.

“I heard an animal trapped in my chimney… when I broke through the wall to get it out…. nothing was there. I realized too late it was all in my head.” Will whispers, in a vulnerable tone. He watches Hannibal pause a few times, processing the information.

“I sleepwalk, I get headaches, and I hear things… I feel unstable.” Will slowly makes his way behind Hannibal, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s waist and burying his face into his back.

“That’s why you came. A clutch for balance.” Hannibal says in a low tone. They stay connected like that until Will releases him and moves next to him.

“Why me?” Will asks.

“I've wanted to kiss you since we’ve met. You are very kissable.” Hannibal admits to him. Will snorts but doesn’t argue with him. Hannibal finishes his last garnish, sliding the pudding over to Will. Will takes a spoon and starts eating, moaning happily. Hannibal and Will eat their pudding together in a peaceful, quiet moment. When they finish, Hannibal is the one to clean the dishes this time. Will moves over to the kitchen doorway, looking at Hannibal.

“Can you hold me tonight?” Will asks. Hannibal places the dishes in the dishwasher before walking over to Will, gently turning him around to guide him upstairs. Once they enter the bedroom, Hannibal kisses Will, holding him by his cheek.

“Of course, mylimasis,” Hannibal whispers when they pull away. They laid down together, Hannibal wrapping his arms around Will’s abdomen. They slot together perfectly as they start to fall asleep.

“What does mylimasis mean?” Will butchered the pronunciation of the word, still ignorant of the language. Hannibal chuckles and kisses the back of his neck.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” As the two men fall asleep, the faint buzzing of Will’s cell phone hidden in Hannibal’s sock drawer goes unanswered.

~*~

Will finds himself being kissed awake, with Hannibal being the main suspect. Hannibal is rubbing calming circles into his hips with his thumbs, his hips slowly rocking against Will. Will chuckles before moving his butt back into Hannibal’s crotch. Hannibal groans and takes a hand to bring down Will’s underwear. Hannibal positions himself and slowly enters Will. Hannibal must’ve wet his cock with his spit beforehand because it slips in with only some resistance. Will hisses at the sting regardless, Hannibal bottoming out and waiting for Will to stop clenching tightly around him. Will takes a deep breath and sighs. Hannibal takes this opportunity to pull out and thrust back in again.

“Jesus Christ…!” Will grunts. Hannibal fucks him slow and sensually, a free hand finding Will’s cock and strokes it to the rhythm of his thrusts. Will sighs in pleasure as Hannibal keeps kissing his neck, biting it and sucking the spot. Will rocks his hips back when he adjusts to Hannibal inside him, shivering at the pleasure building up. Hannibal pulls away from his neck, leaning over to have his mouth by Will’s ear. Hannibal kisses the shell of his ear gently, matching his pace and stroking nicely.

“You’re divine, mylimasis.” Hannibal purrs to him. Will nearly orgasms right there but forces himself to hold it out.

“Then, worship me,” Will growls back to him. Will grunts when Hannibal moves him onto his stomach. Hannibal positions himself with both knees on either side of Will’s thighs; his hands held onto the headboard as he thrusts back into Will. Will cries out, and his hand’s fist around the pillows supporting his head. Hannibal begins a relentless pace, repeatedly slamming into his prostate. Will turns his head to make eye contact with Hannibal. His eyes teared up from the pleasure and earlier sting.

Will’s eyes flutter as he reaches his climax, feeling as Hannibal’s bottoms out in him. Hannibal gives a low moan as he cums inside of Will. Will’s eyes close as he pants from exhaustion. Hannibal pulls himself out, and Will finds he has no strength to even look at the man.

“I didn’t peg you for a morning sex person… but I should’ve known because you were a morning person.” Will sighs, his voice rough. Hannibal chuckles, moving over to lay on his side next to Will. Hannibal smiles at him and puts his crazed curls behind a sweaty ear.

“I’m a light sleeper. I developed it in my youth, hard to sleep when you’re on call.” Hannibal sighs. Will opened one eye to look at Hannibal, scrunching his nose.

“How did you get into the ER in the first place?” Will asks. Hannibal gives Will a genuine smile. Hannibal is deciding whether or not he wanted to open up to Will about it yet. 

“Let’s save that for another day. Do you need assistance?” Hannibal instead asks. Will sighs, closing his eyes again. Will tries to get up but grunts in pain. Hannibal places a concerned hand on the small of his back.

“I’ll be fine. Make breakfast, please. I need to heal.” Will grunts. Hannibal hums in understanding but still rubs the small of his back, which Will appreciates. Will feels the bed move as Hannibal gets up, hearing the man fiddle around to find proper cooking clothes for a lazy morning before he goes downstairs. Will lays there for a while, feeling the sore ache from his muscles screaming at him.

“Was I hit by a truck?” Will grumbles. Will forces himself up, limping towards the bathroom and getting cleaned up. Will looks at the razors, debating whether or not to shave but decides he has time later to do it. Will takes off the sweater, twisting himself around to see the damage done to him. Bites, hickeys, bruises, and various scratches line his body. Will silently admires them before putting the sweater back down. He’s glad he doesn’t work today. Otherwise, he’s sure James would force him on sick leave to recover. Will chuckles to himself before heading downstairs, wincing every time his body bounced down. When he finally makes it to the bottom steps, he sees Hannibal in the kitchen, moving back and forth from the dining room. Will holds onto the wall for a crutch and looks into the dining room first.

“How the hell did you prepare all this?” Will says out loud. There’s a bouquet of roses and sweet williams on the table. The seat he usually takes at the table has multiple cushions on it. The placemats are changed to a blue shade resembling his eye color, and everything has been prepared for a meal.

“Didn’t I leave you alone for a couple of minutes?” Will asks, scrutinizing the room. Hannibal comes up from behind and kisses Will’s cheek.

“Sit down. I’m making Belgian waffles.” Hannibal whispers to him. Will clicks his tongue in displeasure from Hannibal, ignoring his question, but sits down at his seat carefully. Will doesn’t have to wait long as the waffles come out beautifully prepared as if Hannibal had made them the night before. Hannibal places them in front of Will; Will stares at the waffles before looking at Hannibal when he sits down with his plate ready.

“You must have a Belgian waffle maker.” Will accuses. Hannibal smirks and raises his hands in surrender.

“Two. I also have a family recipe. Please dig in.” Hannibal urges him. Will doesn’t give another response as he cuts into the waffles and stuffs his face with them. Moaning happily and kicking his legs slightly. In contrast, Hannibal is neatly eating his. He doesn’t say anything about Will’s manners. Will gives a hard swallow and drinks a healthy gulp of orange juice after wafting down the pancakes. Sighing and leaning back, radiating happiness from being fed.

“These waffles make me very happy that we decided to become official. To ourselves. I don’t think we’re ready for the public yet.” Will rushes to interject the rest, a feeling of disappointment lingering in his heart.

“Our relationship is ours. Let’s not worry about what others will think.” Hannibal tells him confidently. Hannibal places his utensils down and takes Will’s hand. Holding it in a robust and tight grip that makes Will feel anchored. After a few beats of silence, Will is the first one to speak.

“Don’t you have work today? Unlike me.” Will jokes softly. Hannibal takes his hand back, and its loss saddens will. Hannibal finishes the last of his waffles before getting up, taking Will’s plate with him. Will manages to get up, taking the cups with him to the kitchen to help Hannibal clean up.

“Yes. Will you be alright by yourself?” Hannibal asks. Hannibal starts to clean the plates and utensils, taking the cups out of Will’s hands after. Will nods, smiling. 

“I won’t get into trouble as long as I have my phone with me,” Will tells him. Hannibal briefly pauses while washing the dishes but continues without delay.

“Alright. Stay downstairs, for now, and I don’t wish for you to injure yourself. I’ll retrieve your phone while I’m changing.” Hannibal says, placing the dishes on a drying rack. Turning to the side to kiss Will on his forehead. Hannibal helps Will into the living room before going upstairs to change. Will picks up Crime and Punishment from the shelf, sitting on Hannibal’s comfy reading chair, and gets invested into the book. Hannibal comes down a while later, placing Will’s phone on the side table and kissing the top of his hand. Whispering a goodbye before leaving Will alone in the house. 

Will puts the book down before checking his call history. He finds no missed calls, only his outgoing call to Alana last night. Alana would’ve indeed called him. Disheartened, Will goes back to reading some more. It’s not before long his phone rings. Will quickly puts the book down and answers it.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Graham.” Tobias’ voice fills the speakers. Will furrows his eyebrows, confused.

“Mr. Budge… I didn’t realize Hannibal gave you my number.” Will slowly says. Tobias does not indicate whether or not that’s true.

“Please drop by the shop. I need more information about the piano you wanted to be tuned. Especially with the string details.” Tobias tells him earnestly. Will has a pit in his stomach, rubbing his bruised neck.

“Alright… I’ll stop by soon.” Will hangs up. Groaning as he gets up. He wonders if he left any clothes in the guest bedroom from one of his last visits. Heading upstairs and luckily finding his Christmas sweater and comfy jeans. Struggling a bit before going into Hannibal’s bedroom, finding his clothes folded and his coat neatly hung. Will takes it after putting on his socks, placing his shoes on by the front door before checking his keys are still in his pocket. 

Will exits the home, locking it before going to his car. Starting it up and begins driving to the string shop. When Will arrives, he sees a cop car parked nearby. Thinking nothing of it, before he exits the vehicle, he places his glasses on before going and entering the shop, the bell ringing through the small space. Will looks around cautiously, the faint sound of an animal in distress distracting him. Will shakes out a couple of Tylenol from the pill bottle in his chest pocket and swallows them, the sound dying away.

“Mr.Budge?” Will says quietly. Will slowly walks towards the room where Tobias had played in before. Opening the door and looking in, the first thing he sees is an officer on the ground with a metal baton shoved through his throat. Will’s instincts seize up, and he slowly takes out his phone and calls 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“There’s an officer dead in the Chordophone String Shop. The owner called me to come here.”

“Are you sure he’s dead?” The operator asks, shakiness in her tone. Will slowly walked into the room. Placing his fingers on the man’s throat.

“There’s a baton sticking out of his neck. He has no pulse.” Will supplies to her. 

“We’re sending an ambulance and police right away. Sir, please get out of the building.” Will looks at him for a short moment before noticing another door. The faint sound of metal scraping catches his attention.

“I’m going in further. There’s someone else here..” Will whispers. 

“Sir, please don’t—“ The operator tries. Will hangs up. Will takes the officer's gun out of its holster, thanking that he lives in America. Will holds the weapon ready as Will steps through the door, going downstairs into the basement. The first thing he takes in is the jars of gut on the shelves, way too big to be catgut. Will goes further, looking over the workshop area, then sees the guts hanging to dry. A sound had alarmed him causing him to leave his back open.

“Fuck.” He mumbled himself. Will turns back around. It’s a scratching sound that persists from the curtain. Will makes his way to it, moving the curtain open to see another officer facedown in a tub of wires drying. Will gets closer and, with one hand, checks their pulse. They're dead. Will steps back, processing what’s happening.

Quickly they’re wires in front of his eye line. Will takes both hands to protect his neck as the assailant tries to strangle him. The gun points over his shoulder as the assailant pulls and pulls, trying to kill him. Finally, the gun is over his shoulder enough that he takes his chance when he glances over to his left. An earsplitting boom leaves his ears ringing, and the assailant runs away. When Will forces himself back up again to look at the assailant, recognizing Tobias Budge as he cups a hand over his left ear. Will tries to shoot repeatedly but misses, Budge going upstairs. After another failed flurry of shots and stumbling towards the stairs, Will finds himself unable to go further. The pain in his ear Will has him dropping the gun and leaning against the wall. 

The sounds of sirens were his only solace as his world faded to black.

~*~

Hannibal has broken the news to Franklyn. Last night it had dawned on him that Franklyn was a liability to his and Will’s relationship. He was an annoying pest that Hannibal couldn’t brush off anymore. Especially with his admittance to stalking Hannibal outside the office. Now the man was throwing a fit as a toddler would. Hannibal paused at the thought. No, a toddler would have room to learn. 

“You lost respect for me because I didn’t report Tobias, didn’t you?”

“Report Tobias for what?” The door clicked open, and Tobias stepped through. Franklyn stands up in shock. Hannibal slowly joins him and turns around. Hannibal watches Franklyn approach Tobias, the man having a bloody ear from what appears to be a gunshot.

“I came to say goodbye.” 

Franklyn fumbles on his words. Hannibal understands what he means quickly. Tobias seems to want to kill Franklyn. Tobias adjusts stance, puffing out his chest.

“I just killed three men. The police came to question me about the murder.” Tobias makes eye contact with Hannibal, a threat lingering beneath his eyes. Franklyn starts talking again. Hannibal doesn’t care enough to listen. From Hannibal’s memory, American police travel in pairs. Why would Tobias say three? Who was the third? An unfortunate customer coming at the wrong time? Hannibal lifts his head, sniffing the air faintly. The sweet scent of fever, cinnamon, and pine that was mixed with gun powder.

“That’s right! You’re not alone. Nothing has happened in our relationship that you and I can’t—“

Hannibal walks up behind Franklyn and snaps his neck without a second thought. Franklyn drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Hannibal and Tobias look at the deadman with a dispassionate glance, then they slowly address each other with a look. They’re silent for a long moment.

“I was looking forward to that,” Tobias says tersely. Tobias looks immensely displeased, while Hannibal gives a small smirk.

“I saved you the trouble,” Hannibal replies. Tobias throws his coat, unraveling his gut wire.

“I called Will Graham to my shop and wrapped a wire around his throat,” Tobias says, starting to whip around the wire as a lasso. Slowly stepping closer, a crouched position.

“He fought very sloppily. You’ll join your lover soon.” Tobias promises. Tobias strikes. Hannibal goes on the defensive, stepping back as Tobias continues to try to hit him. Hannibal swiftly avoids each swing, dodging with limited mobility but unintentionally leaving his core open. Tobias takes the opportunity to kick him in the gut.

Hannibal stumbles back by the ladder. As Tobias advances again, Hannibal takes the ladder and uses his strength to push it over. It startles Tobias for a second, but he recovers, throwing the wire towards Hannibal. Hannibal catches it with his forearm Hannibal feels it tear his suit jacket. Still, his adrenaline starts to override any pain he feels. They pull back and forth to gain an advantage, and Hannibal pulls as Tobias does and uses Tobias’ own strength to send him forward. 

Tobias misses a punch to the face, and they twirl around each other. When Tobias’ other hand finds a side table, he picks it up to smash into Hannibal. Hannibal barely manages to just his elbow to stop the full assault. Hannibal tricks Tobias into thinking he’s going to punch him, but his arm slips underneath his armpit. Hannibal grabs his collar and headbutted the man, dazing him. While Tobias is trying to recover, Hannibal uses his newfound advantage to throw Tobias towards his desk. 

When Tobias recovers, he grabs a letter opener, and Hannibal makes a jumping tackle onto Tobias. They tumble to the floor, Hannibal finds himself at a disadvantage again. Tobias kicks him in the face, and when he gets up to bring distance between them, Tobias swings the letter opener around. Tobias gives a punch to Hannibal’s jaw before the man could even stand up. When Hannibal stands, Tobias drives the letter opener into his thigh. After exclaiming in pain, Tobias jumps up, his hand around Hannibal’s throat, and pushes him against the desk.

Hannibal grabs his forearm before Tobias can stab him with the letter opener. Hannibal looks to the side and finds the ladder in a better place, and even better his scalpel. Hannibal’s hand goes up and grabs his trusty scalpel as he’s holding Tobias back from killing him. Hannibal stabs him in the attacking arm, causing the letter opener to drop. Hannibal pushes Tobias and begins another assault, which quickly goes downhill when Tobias gets a few solid punches and a kick to stagger him back. Tobias tries to punch again, but Hannibal blocks it, gearing to hit Tobias repeatedly in the stomach. Hannibal gets a nice sucker punch in before Tobias hits him on the chin twice. Another flurry of kicks and punches as Hannibal’s back against the ladder he had pushed over previously.

Tobias smiles as he gears up another punch; Hannibal quickly moves away and grabs his arm from the other side. He used his full weight to snap the arm towards him. Tobias screams in pain, and Hannibal lets him go; when Tobias tries to retaliate, Hannibal blocks his swing and hits Tobias in the windpipe. Tobias gasps for breath and falls to his knees on the floor. Hannibal looks behind him and sees the ravenstag statue he had commissioned years earlier. Hannibal silently mourns its loss as he picks it up with a handkerchief to avoid leaving fingerprints on it.

“For Will,” Hannibal whispered. Hannibal lifts the statue over his head and slams it down onto Tobias’ skull. Hannibal let's go of the statue and it falls next to the now-dead man. Hannibal makes the table that once held the figure fall over with the handkerchief covering his hands still. He was pocketing the handkerchief once he caught his breath, soon he stumbled over to the harpsichord, tapping a key. He hears the off note it plays, frowning deeply.

“Looks like I need another string shop to tune it.” Hannibal sighed. Sitting down in his desk chair and calling the cops.

~*~ 

Hannibal is still sitting in his chair as the FBI touches and marks all the evidence around his office. A paramedic gives him some space after assessing his injuries to his body. Hannibal frowns at the tear in his suit pants. Hannibal looks up to see Jack Crawford walk in; he watches the man stop and motion behind him. Then a miracle happens, which almost invites Hannibal’s faith in god.

Will Graham walks in a bright orange shock blanket across his shoulders like the day they forged their bloody bond. Hannibal watches in disbelief as Will is guided to him. Will stands in front of him, and Hannibal finds himself very vulnerable. Hannibal licks his lips before speaking.

“I was worried you were dead,” Hannibal whispers. Jack clears his throat slightly. Both the men give him the attention he’s asking for.

“Tobias Budge killed two police officers, nearly killed Mr. Graham, and after all that, his first stop is here? At your office.” Jack asks. Hannibal takes a deep breath.

“He came to kill my patient.” Hannibal gestures with his eyes over to the dead, Franklyn.

“Was that who Budge was serenading?” Jack asks him.

“I don’t know. Franklyn knew more than he was telling me. He had told Mr. Budge he didn’t have to kill anymore.” Hannibal admits. Hannibal takes another deep breath, exhaling shakily.

“Then he broke his neck and then attacked me.” Hannibal breathes the last of his confession. Will moves closer to him, leaning against the desk.

“You killed him?”

“...Yeah.”

“Could’ve Franklyn been involved with Budge’s killings?” Jack presses. Hannibal looks downcast, his eyes finding the gauze riddled hands of Will. Anger bubbles up inside his heart, but he makes it simmer down.

“I thought it was just a simple matter of a poor choice of friends.” 

“Doesn’t feel simple to me,” Jack grumbles as he walks away. Hannibal is finally able to look at Will in all his majesty. Will adjusts himself to sit on the desk instead; Hannibal doesn’t protest. Allowing him to be spoiled after the day he had is the least Hannibal can do.

“I feel like… I dragged you into whatever hell I ended up in after Hobbs.” Will quietly admits to Hannibal. Hannibal looks up at Will, a small smile on his lips.

“I got here on my own, but I appreciate the company.” Hannibal chuckles, which Will mirrors. Will looks around for Jack Crawford before he leans down and kisses Hannibal’s forehead.

“They also told me to have you corporate with the paramedics. I angered them enough, arguing I wanted to be with you. I’m not proud, but I was worried.” Will admits. Hannibal’s eyebrows furrow as he assesses Will’s left ear that has a blood trickle out of it.

“I admit I don’t have hearing at all in it right now,” Will admits shyly. Hannibal sighs profoundly but doesn’t argue, chuckling softly.

“I’ll try to convince them to treat us next to each other if available.” 

Will smiles and holds out an injured hand. Hannibal doesn’t use it to get up but holds it gently for a moment of hidden comfort. 

“I’ll look forward to recovery with you,” Will admits.

~*~

After they’re discharged from the hospital, Will was given antibiotics for an injured left eardrum. It was confirmed that he had suffered hearing loss. Hannibal was stitched up and given pain medicine and dressing changes so he could recover without infection. They’re currently lying next to each other in bed; Will has taken the role of a big spoon to hold Hannibal. 

“Are you always a big spoon?” 

“I always find myself in a position to comfort others,” Hannibal admits. Will kisses the back of his neck, which causes Hannibal to shiver.

“I’ll take care of you. You can stay in my arms for however long you want.” Will proclaims to him. Hannibal smiles, turning his head into the plush to hide from Will’s cheesiness.

“But your arm will grow numb. The doctor warned against rubbing the gauze against anything.” Hannibal teased.

“A worthy sacrifice,” Will argued back. Will leans back to kiss the back of Hannibal’s neck. He was snuggling closer into his back. Will doesn't say any further as sleep begins to descend upon him. Hannibal listens to him breathe in and out, to think that just hearing a sigh come out of the man cuddling him could make his heart clench in ways he didn't know how to describe. Hannibal was endlessly fascinated by the idea of only keeping Will for himself. Hannibal could lock him away in a comfortable cage where Will could only talk to him, away from a partying James or a manipulative Abigail. Hannibal’s satisfied grin turns into an angered scowl. Hannibal could even lock him away from a curious tomcat that Hannibal knew Will had no interest in, but interests change.

Hannibal would have to remedy the distance between Will and him. Maybe a few kennels in his backyard along with adopting out the four other dogs under Will’s care. Having fewer animals to move in with him is ideal, Will dislikes leaving them alone. Hannibal hopes to have Will stay over much more until he barely wants to be home anymore. However, if Hannibal separates them for too long, Will might push back Hannibal. Hannibal wants to avoid that as much as possible.

Then, Hannibal was supposed to use the multiple temperature-controlled laminated glass book container he commissioned for the basement long ago. It wouldn't hurt to clear them out, add some new books to his shelves, and add a few additions to their old home. Hannibal silently is glad for the face of how vast his basement is. The builders were truly excellent when he commissioned it, his basement to be a finished one. Hannibal didn't leave with any business cards during their time there.

After all these thoughts raced in his head and started to simmer in his head, Hannibal made a list of what to do in preparation for Will being here often. First, get the dogs adopted out, leaving only three, so he can build three kennels. Then, tidy up his book container and add a few additions to it. Finally, when that's all said and done, he'll attempt to lure Will closer to him. Maybe nurture the darkness lurking within Will until the man finally admits with confidence that killing is beautiful.

Will curled his arms tighter around Hannibal, hugging him like a giant stuffed animal. Hannibal pauses all trains of thought, tensing up and waiting for Will’s next move. Nothing more happens except for Will relaxing once again but saying nothing. Hannibal sighs, starting to allow himself to calm down in the smaller man's arms. Hannibal moves his free arm to rub the tops of Will’s rough hands, a very foreign feeling coming over him.

Will had almost died today because of his darkness. Tobias, being angered that Hannibal had not responded in kind to his serenade. Hannibal isn't bothered that the man came to kill him. Still, something about Tobias taking the extra mile to call Will to his shop to kill him angers Hannibal to a boiling point. Hannibal thinks of what he should do differently next time. However, Hannibal doubts there’ll be a next time that Will finds himself vulnerable to another killer. Comforted by the arms around him and his last thought, Hannibal gives a deep sigh and gets comfortable against his pillow. He pulled the blankets up to his chest before closing his eyes, allowing himself to be subdued by sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be updating for a while, maybe until December. 
> 
> Yesterday, on 11/14/2020, I had to put my best friend of 10 years down because his health took a turn for the worst. To say I'm a complete wreck is taking it lightly. Dookie was the greatest dog I could've had for a companion for those long 10 years of my life, my sadness is immense, and as I write this, I'm tearing up once again.
> 
> Thank you for supporting my work and for understanding.
> 
> -Salt_City (Gabe)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal have very bad communication issues that the both of them haven’t been working on. Especially when it comes to what they want or what their daughter wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOUR TO MY BETA READERS RUNE AND SID FROM THE RUDECORD SERVER!!! I deeply appreciate you helping me flesh out my writing and help me improve it too ❤️❤️💛💛🧡🧡

”I’m going back to work in the morning. I already discussed it with my therapist.” Hannibal watches the change happen in Will's blue eyes; they quickly turn closer to a grey color in silent anger.

”You were attacked not even four days ago. By your patients, ‘ _friend_.’” Will uses his fingers to further stress the word “friend.” Hannibal doesn't reply as he cuts the pork piccata into a piece to eat. Will, in contrast, puts his utensils down as he judges Hannibal at his side. Hannibal continues to ignore Will until Will presses his new slipper, which Hannibal had given them to him on their second day together, into Hannibal’s shin. Hannibal gives Will an unimpressed look.

“I have a responsibility to aiding my patients to get a grasp on their mental health,” Hannibal says firmly. Will takes his foot back quickly but has a sharp glare on his face.

“You need to get a grasp on your own mental health first. Throwing yourself back into work isn’t healthy.” Will scowls. Hannibal bites back the urge to lean over and kiss his pale lips until bloody, stopping the conversation entirely.

“I’m competent, mylimasis.” Hannibal reaches over to grab Will’s hand, but Will avoids it with a quick motion. Hannibal is momentarily stunned as Will pushes back his chair, gets up, and leaves the room. He is only brought about when an upstairs door slams closed. Hannibal slowly finishes his meal, covering up Will’s barely touched plate and cleaning up the dining room, heading to the kitchen to have dessert alone. 

Hannibal is trying to think of what could’ve made Will upset. It’s only a few moments later when he hears a second-story door open, and Will is stomping down the steps. Will stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Hannibal with a frown.

“You said it’s not good to go to bed angry. How can you be okay if I’m not okay?” Will slouches against the doorway. Hannibal straightens up, making eye contact with Will, who looks away moments later.

“...Come hear, mylimasis,” Hannibal whispers. Will reluctantly obeys, walking over, and lets himself be taken in by Hannibal’s loving arms. Hannibal squeezes him, and Will sighs deeply.

“I move at a different pace than you in terms of coping. Death is something that I’ve learned to deal with. A natural cycle that drives our world, whether we directly cause it or not.” Hannibal gently explains to him. Hannibal brings a hand up to run his fingers through Will’s soft hair. Hannibal could almost sob at the heavenly feeling after Will had been nursing him back to health. Or more accurately, be assured that Hannibal still was alive and well. Will lays his head on Hannibal’s chest, relaxing into the touch.

“Fine. You can go back to your practice. However…” Will takes his head off of Hannibal’s chest to glare into Hannibal’s eyes.

”Don’t put yourself into that position ever again.” Will whispers to him. Hannibal closes his eyes and kisses, Will, adjusting his hand in Will’s hair to have them deepen their kiss. Hannibal keeps Will in the kiss until Will’s hand pats his chest frantically. Will pulls away when Hannibal allows it, taking deep breaths. Will’s eyes flutter, and he leans into Hannibal for stability. Unable to stand up by himself after that kiss.

”You made me dizzy again.” Will complains. Hannibal chuckles, removing the hand in Will’s hair and moving both his hands to Will’s hips.

”Apologises. I wanted to steal your breath away, mylimasis.” 

Will gives a loud snort at Hannibal’s flirting. Will’s frame shakes with silent laughter, and Hannibal finds himself frowning. 

”What?” Hannibal asks, oblivious.

”Did you learn those lines in a movie? Or a YA novel, Hannibal?” Will snickers. Hannibal looks down at him with a confused look on his face. Will flashes a big grin at him, letting some chuckles out.

”You’re very cheesy. Just use your everyday words to woo me; I don't need a poem.” Will teases. Will removes himself from Hannibal's grip and leans against the counter, glancing at Hannibal’s lips briefly before looking at the fridge.

”What’s for dessert? I'm hungry.” 

Hannibal holds in the deep sigh Will almost forces out of him. Of course, Will didn't want to finish his dinner. Yet Hannibal couldn't find a single bone in his body that wanted to scold Will. Hannibal smiles regardless; perhaps he can try to pry.

”Did you not like dinner?” Hannibal asks as he makes his way over to the freezer, ready to show off his homemade ice cream.

”Yeah..” 

Hannibal takes out the ice cream and places it on the counter, pausing as he searches for an ice cream scoop. When he finds one, he gets two bowls and a bar of chocolate with a shaver. Will watches as Hannibal scoops the ice cream into perfect balls.

“The taste was off.”

Hannibal tilts his head at the information Will gave, thinking about it as he finishes scooping the ice cream. Packing up the ice cream and putting it away, he moves to shave the chocolate onto the ice cream. 

”Do you have taste issues?” Hannibal inquires. Will turns his body to look at Hannibal more.

”What do you mean? I hope we aren’t talking about my thoughts...” Will deadpans. Hannibal has a neat smile on his lips at Will’s attitude. Hannibal finishes his topping, wrapping the chocolate and putting the shaver into the sink.

”Well, from what I remember, your thoughts aren’t very tasty.” Hannibal chuckles. Will gives a brief half-laugh but doesn’t say anything else. Hannibal takes two spoons out of the drawer, and they leave to sit on the living room couch together. Will doesn't eat the ice cream right away, watching it melt before finally giving in and eating it.

”Are you sure you're okay to go back to work?” Will asks Hannibal, looking over to the man. Hannibal meets his gaze, giving Will a reassuring smile.

”How about you? Are you confident to go back to work again?” Hannibal presses. Will looks down at his hands; multiple long thin scabs line the tops of his hands. Will places his bowl on the coffee table and leans over to kiss Hannibal gently. Hannibal moves his own bowl to his other hand and brings a now free arm up to hold Will’s cheek. When Will pulls back, Hannibal finds himself panting for breath.

”Seems dessert can wait.” Hannibal chuckles. Hannibal places his bowl down on the coffee table also. Will smiles at him, leaning back in to kiss Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal shifts his position on the couch, kicking off his slippers, Will pulls back briefly so Hannibal can wedge his leg between the couch seat and Will. Hannibal has his legs open for Will to be more comfortable. Will moved his head towards Hannibal’s earlobe, biting it softly.

”Can we have a go?” Will kisses Hannibals’s ear sensually. Hannibal chuckles and places a hand on Will’s chest, moving to kiss Will’s lips again.

”You're using sex to avoid the conversation.” Hannibal murmurs. Will gives a dramatic huff and lays his head back onto Hannibal’s chest. Muffled words coming from Will vibrate against Hannibal’s chest, causing him to chuckle. Hannibal takes both hands under Will’s armpits to prop him to have a face to face conversation.

”Tell me what's bothering you.”

”I’m worried that I'll…hurt someone. I lost time the other day when I ate with you,”

Hannibal lets Will back down, petting his hair gently and rubbing a comforting hand on his back as his breaths slow down. Hannibal watches the street lamps outside his window, the moths starting to live in the world again as Winter starts to defrost. They flutter around by the light, smacking into it every so often and falling to the concrete. Will makes a loud snore that nearly causes Hannibal to jump. Hannibal calms himself down and allows Will to continue sleeping on his chest. Hannibal chuckles to himself, wondering why he was so anxious.

”We didn't even finish the ice cream.” Hannibal pouts to himself. Hannibal goes silently for a minute, realizing that Will has his right ear exposed to him. Hannibal takes a curious hand and snaps it loudly next to Will’s ear. Will barely makes any other sound than a softer snore. After a few moments of complete silence, Hannibal makes himself slightly more comfortable. 

_Bless deep sleepers,_ Hannibal thinks to himself. Grinning as he slowly falls asleep with the comfortable weight of Will on his chest, a stark contrast to the uncomfortable armrest digging into his spine.

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


Hannibal returns to work that morning, and Will immediately heads home to care for his dogs. Once there, a lingering feeling of resentment keeps him from visiting Hannibal for a few days. However, Hannibal’s increasing intensity of the text messages makes him nervous when they meet again. Will sent the word that he was ready for work, but Barney still hadn't given him the call.

Will is on his couch with his laptop open. He notices he has quite a few emails from the shelter. They were all labeled ”potential adoption,” which caused an unexpected wave of unhappiness to clutch at his heart. Will responds to them with a flat, tense tone. Will doesn't expect them to care; the shelter is probably excited that their new owners won't almost get killed every other month. 

Will sighs as he closes the laptop, rubbing his temples as a headache makes its way to them. At this point, they might as well be migraines, the light now starting to add to the pain. Winston trots over and places his head on Will’s lap, putting pressure onto it. Will looks at Winston and smiles, rubbing him behind the ears.

”You’re lucky, buddy. You don't have to worry about a boyfriend.” Will tells him. Will's cell rings with James’ ringtone filling the quiet house. Will gets off the couch and picks up the phone, bringing it to his ear and listening.

”Hey, Will!” James exclaims. Will flinches at the noise but doesn't say anything.

”...Boss said we have a job today.” James says in a regretful tone. 

“Graham! Get your ass here! No more taking off!” Barney’s obnoxious yelling in the distance. Will hears James make a click with his tongue, displeased. Will heard a commotion on James’ end before a door slam, and he listens as a long sigh comes from James.

“Sorry. Boss is in a bad mood…. are you sure you’re okay enough for the job again? It’s in Grafton… but I mean… you almost got killed.” James, thankfully, leaves out the part where Hannibal was also attacked. Will isn’t sure what he would do if he hears it from another mouth. Will already just came to terms with death being so close to him. Maybe a ghost started haunting him when he killed someone. Will focuses on petting Winston again as he feels the dog put pressure on his lap.

“Yeah. Cleaning hordes is calming.”

James snorts.

“Calming my ass. Roaches can crawl into your ears at any time.”

“All part of the thrill.” 

Both men dissolve into a fit of giggles. When they collect themselves, Will hears the turn of keys and an engine starting up. Will’s smile falters, getting off the couch to rummage through his drawers.

“You’re coming now?” Will asks, a bitter tone lingering on the line. James hums in response. Will can hear the faint tune of Rebel Yell by Billy Idol thumping through the van’s speakers, low enough so James can still hear and talk to him.

“Yeah, I got some time to drink your shitty coffee.” James snickers. Will rolls his eyes.

“It’s not shitty anymore. Hannibal gave me a new coffee maker.” Will can almost imagine the double-take James does in the silence.

“That’s quite intimate. Doesn’t seem too professional.” James says cautiously. It almost sounds like James is carefully choosing what to say, like Will was a ticking bomb. It bothered Will more than he’d admit.

“It’s perfectly professional. It was a Christmas gift.” 

“Uh-huh….” James falls into a skeptical silence, and Will starts to get irritated. After another tense silence, James speaks up again.

“I’ll see you soon.” James hangs up. Will stares at his phone after he takes it away from his ear. Will places it in his pocket as he gets ready, putting on his work boots and shirt. Will waits at his kitchen table, staring out the window. A blink, and he’s in a different location, staring down at a moldy cockroach nest. Will jumps and looks around. He sees James shoving his hand into a mountain of trash to collect the garbage and stuffing it into a contractor bag. Will watches James, then looks at his own hands, gloves covered in trash grease and in one hand, a contractor bag.

“James,” Will says. James looks over at him, sweat dripping down his brow from working.

“What?”

“What time is it?” Will watches as James talks, his mouth moving, but no sound comes from it.

“Sorry I missed that. What was it again?” The same result greets Will. Frustration pools in his stomach, and before he tries to ask again, he snaps. 

“Just fucking tell me the time!” Suddenly he feels the floor melt under him. He feels himself fall down into a chair. The world around him looked unfocused and strange. The walls looked as if they were melting while his body was firmly lying down. 

A shadow in the corner of his eye catches his attention. It’s small at first, then slowly grows in size, hovering over him. Its thin claws find his face, caressing it gently. Will tries to speak, but he finds himself mute, deaf to the scene playing out in front of him. The faun creature pulls back from him, and the horned man comes into focus. He smiles and leans close to Will. Just as his mouth opens, a silent click of a door catches Will’s attention. He turns around to look for the noise and is suddenly in Hannibal’s office waiting room just as Hannibal is stepping out of the door. Hannibal looks just as surprised as Will is feeling. Hannibal straightens himself out, seeing Will, a pleasant smile on his thin lips.

“Will…” Hannibal says it in such a soft, gentle tone that it almost makes Will forget he doesn’t remember how he got here.“I wasn’t expecting—” 

“I don’t know how I got here.” Will doesn’t let Hannibal finish, quickly moving into the office. Hannibal is quick to shut the door and hug him from behind, trapping Will in the inescapable trap of his arms.

“I would assume by car. Do you know if you drove?” Hannibal asks into Will’s ear. Will shakes his head.

“No, I don’t. I was at home, I blinked, I was at a job in Grafton with James, blinked again and now I-I’m suddenly in your waiting room. Waking up from a nightmare.” Will stutters over some words, trying his best to keep a coherent sentence. Hannibal remains silent, Will holds himself from crying.

“I lost time again, Hannibal. There’s something wrong with me.” Will has a degree of certainty in his voice that troubles Hannibal, his arms pulling into a firmer hug.

“You’re dissociating. It’s a normal response after trauma… or repeated abuse.” Hannibal states. Something in Hannibal’s tone causes Will to react poorly. Will starts struggling against Hannibal, suddenly feeling confined. Hannibal doesn’t allow Will to go, which causes the stress to build.

“No, No. I’m not abused! What the fuck are you going on about?!” Will yells, fighting more violently against Hannibal’s grip.

“You’re feeling overwhelmed right now, yet you choose to ignore it. That’s the abuse I’m referring to.” Hannibal grunts, adjusting his grip on Will to make it harder for the man to escape.

“What? You want me to quit? Leave my stable job and become a fucking trophy wife?” Will snaps.

“No, I want you to take care of yourself. I’m your partner Will! I care that you’re being separated from reality!” Hannibal raises his voice. 

All the fight leaves Will, and he goes slack against Hannibal. Sounds of their exhausted panting filling the room as Hannibal and Will catch their breath. Hannibal slowly moves them to the long couch, letting Will fall into his lap. Will allows a quiet sob to leave his lips at the realization that maybe he’s not okay.

“I’ve…. been sleepwalking, um, having hallucinations…. Maybe I should go to a doctor like James suggested…” Will sobs miserably. Hannibal tightens his arms around Will, once again, leaning in to talk into Will’s ear.

“Don’t avoid the truth,” He commands softly. Will sniffles quietly, collecting himself the best he can.

“I… wasn’t ready to go back to work,” Will admits in a defeated tone. Hannibal loosens his grip on Will, merely holding him by his waist now. Rewarding him for accepting the truth.

“Your mind needed an escape, so you lost time.” Hannibal nods in agreement. The glint of the scalpel on Hannibal’s desk catches Will’s eye. He wonders how using a scalpel was better at sharpening than a pencil sharpener. Maybe Hannibal would demonstrate for him when he’s better.

“I’m worried about you. What if you lose time again and hurt yourself… or someone else?” Hannibal kisses the back of Will’s neck. Will shrinks into himself at the action, squirming in Hannibal’s grip in discomfort rather than an escape attempt.

“I don’t want you to wake up and see blood on your hands,” Hannibal whispers to him. The words wrap around Will like a feathered lace coat, styled only to please for so long. Will doesn’t reply, staring at the scalpel still. Hannibal places his chin on Will’s shoulder, looking in the same direction he is.

“What’re you looking at?”

“The shadows,” Will opts to say. Looking back at Hannibal, forcing a smile. Hannibal’s eyes seem to darken to a deep auburn at his omission, Will sees flecks of red peeking through the iris. Will slowly starts to grind his hips against Hannibal but is halted by a firm hand and a glare.

“No, I’m going to have lunch with Abigail since I have no more patients for the day… I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you… if you join us.” Hannibal suggests slyly. Will pouts but removes himself from Hannibal’s lap, shaking off the lingering feelings of Hannibal's tight hands. Will turns and extends a hand to help Hannibal stand. Hannibal graciously takes it.

“Then, let’s eat together.” Will smiles. Hannibal mirrors the smile, still holding Will’s hand, and leads him out of the office. With the door closed and locked behind them, Hannibal walks them to his Bently. Will looks into the parking lot, his car sitting there abandoned. Dread gnawed at his stomach, a sweaty hand reaching into his pants pocket to click the lock button on his car. Some relief tickles his gut when it honks, signaling its locking. 

“Should I leave my ca—”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t even let me finish…”

“Please leave your car here. We’ll take care of it later.” Hannibal amends. Will glares but doesn’t say anything more. Will looks out the passenger side window, looking at the brick buildings and empty trees lots on the sidewalks every few feet as they pull out of the parking lot.

“Are you feeling better?” Hannibal asks. Will looks back over to Hannibal to see him glance over. Will huffs and smirks to himself before looking at the road ahead. Watching a car on the side of the road with a small family seemingly arguing, judging by the father’s red face. They drive past, and Will decides to answer Hannibal.

“Not really. I’m regretting not continuing to take my Zoloft after all these years.”

“I don’t think that would've been wise with your drinking habits.”

Will smiles, hearing the concern lining his tone. Will places an elbow against the window and door and leans against it. Giving Hannibal his full attention instead of avoiding the topic.

“I’m not terrible. I was worse in college.” Will tells him. Hannibal nods as he listens along, putting his blinker on when they arrive at a turn. Will watches Hannibal’s focused eyes as the man stays vigilant on the road. Will looks out the window he's leaning on, watching the trees as they pass them. Hannibal taps the steering wheel to break the silence, causing Will to glance over.

“You never told me what your safe word means,”

“Lagniappe? I thought you would have googled it by now… but, I did promise you that… It means to give extra. Like when the old bakery owner slips in an extra doughnut.” Will explains, waving his pointer finger absentmindedly. Hannibal gives a pleased hum, a pleasant smile forming on his lips.

“I can only assume that’s Louisiana slang. Your accent, when I listen closely, purrs underneath.” Hannibal teases him. Will frowns at Hannibal in protest.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Will defends.

“You stress your R’s to hide it.” Hannibal quips.

“You’re the worst mumbler I know. How can you go on artistic rants when I can only understand half of your sentence?” Will adopts Hannibal’s accent halfway through talking out of pure spite. Hannibal heartily chuckles as they finally arrive at their destination.

“It’s not mumbling, simply talking mysteriously.”

“It’s only mysterious because no one knows what you’re saying.”

Hannibal parks the car, and Hannibal reaches behind to grab a small lunch box from the backseat before stepping out. Will spots bright curly hair from the side of his eye. Hannibal sniffs the air as they both turn to find Freddie Lounds, seemingly going to her car.

“Oh! Dr. Lecter!” Freddie’s voice is happy. Her sharp gaze looks at Will, looking the man up and down from his worn boots to his flannel overcoat that she gives a soft scoff at.

“...and Mr. Graham. I didn’t know you would still be visiting Abigail. I thought perhaps you would stay away from attention.” Freddie gives a subtle stab at him. Will doesn’t flinch, but he feels the sting from her words. Instead, he clenches his hand and looks at Hannibal to send her away. As if Hannibal reads his mind, his smile falters in displeasure at Freddie’s tone.

“Apologies, Ms. Lounds, we have a previously agreed appointment with Abigail. It seems you didn’t take the same courtesy…” Hannibal says with a pointed look at her frazzled appearance. Freddie glares at him but leaves them, probably to lick her wounds in her den. Will’s sure Freddie will post another scathing article about them, but this small victory against her should be savored.

“Are we allowed to take her somewhere, or are we stuck eating hospital food?” Will probes. Will walks alongside him as they enter the hospital, stopping at the front desk to get visitor badges.

“Alana has threatened to, and I quote “hide every left sock” end quote, around my home if I pull a stunt similar to Christmas. So, instead, I permitted Abigail to order food with a small budget.” Hannibal politely informs. Will glanced down at Hannibal’s lunch box, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m guessing you don’t trust her taste?”

Instead of responding, Hannibal hands him his badge with a dramatic flick, and Will puts it on with a short laugh. They head to the elevators and step in, quickly getting joined by a large group of nurses and other visitors. Will puts himself into a corner while Hannibal stands in front of him, placing his arm next to Will’s exposed side to stop the group from crowding Will. Will looks up at Hannibal, embarrassment coloring his cheeks red.

“If I get crushed by your chest, I’ll sue,” Will grumbles jokingly to Hannibal. Hannibal doesn’t react other than a sharp exhale from his nostrils. The elevator shakes as it makes its journey upwards. When they arrive at Abigail's floor, a good chunk of people leave, and Hannibal takes Will by the wrist and leads him out. Making their way to Abigail’s room with Hannibal letting go. Will takes his wrist back but goes back to hold his hand instead.

“Do you think Abigail will be shocked?” Will queries.

“I think she was expecting it, eventually. She’ll possibly be mad we didn’t tell her the minute it happened.” Hannibal reassured. Will wants to worry more, but Hannibal doesn’t give him any time as he opens the door to let themselves into Abigail's room.

“Abigail, I brought you good news, and a surprise—“ Hannibal stops dead in his tracks when he sees what Abigail has on her lunch tray table, seeming turned to stone from shock.

“Will!” Abigail waves happily. The door gives a soft slam as it closes behind the duo. Abigail has lit up entirely at the sight of Will, only faltering when she sees Hannibal and Will’s linked hands.

“Abigail! It’s great to see you. Also, let me get some of what you’re having.” Will takes his hand out of Hannibal’s death grip and slides a chair over as Abigail excitedly makes a plate for Will. Hannibal is still frozen in shocked, stunned silence at the scene. Will looks over with a raised eyebrow.

“Hannibal… are you alright? I know 20 nuggets is a lot for someone, but it’s not that big of a deal.” Will takes a single Mcdonald’s chicken nugget that Abigail had given to him and pops the whole thing into his mouth. Hannibal looks on, horrified, and moves to sit over on the other side of the room, where he sets up his own lunch. Hannibal ignores Will’s snickers and Abigail's own sideways glance of mild concern.

“What did you bring?” Will inquires. He strains his neck to look at Hannibal’s bowl with a chicken breast, green beans, and mushrooms on top of it in a sauce. Will watches Hannibal cut into the dish and take a small bite out of it. Will raised his eyebrow as he shoved another chicken nugget into his mouth.

“Anyway. How’re you, Abigail? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Will directs his attention to the young girl. Abigail rubs her neck where her patterned scarf hides her scar. A troubled look pulls her eyebrows into a furrow, and her pale lips are thin.

“They sold my home. Apparently, murder houses aren’t moneymakers in the real estate market.” Abigail sighs. Will hums around another chicken nugget as he finishes it. Will looks at Abigail’s expression and calculates what he’s going to say next.

“Depends on the notoriety. John Wayne Gacy’s house plot was listed $459,000.” Will picks up a nugget to inspect it, turning in his chair to look at the nugget next to Hannibal. Hannibal looks at Will, then to the lump in hand with a grimace. Will smiles at his reaction, looking back at Abigail, who has a thoughtful expression lining her features.

“I’m… glad that he wasn’t worse,” Abigail says slowly. She picks up a chicken nugget and dips it in barbecue sauce before holding it up. The sauce drips down onto the tray.

“My home isn’t my home anymore; it stopped being a home when he changed…” Abigail stops, still watching the sauce drip off her nugget. Will reaches over and grabs a napkin to clean up the mess. Abigail’s expression changes, her blue eyes light up, and a bright smile stretches on her lips. “...but I have you. Both of you now.” 

Abigail looks between Hannibal and Will as he shoves the nugget into her mouth. Allowing Will to fuss over her messy finger as he wipes them with another napkin. When she finishes chewing, she resumes smiling.

“You’re both my family now. You both will take care of me.” Abigail’s happy words feel more like a snake coiling around one's arm slowly. Will actively ignores the feeling and smiles at Abigail. A warm parental feeling is making its home in his heart. Hannibal closes the lid to his lunch and puts it away, bringing a chair to Abigail’s bedside and right next to Will. Hannibal doesn’t dare look at the tray, but his eyes catch Will’s when he looks to his side.

“We have something to tell you, Abigail,” Hannibal softly says. Abigail adjusts her posture and attentively looks at Hannibal. Hannibal grabs Will’s hand and holds it tenderly, ignoring the feeling of grease still on them from his nuggets. Abigail’s eyes flick down, and she gives a confused expression.

“I already knew you were together. Did you propose?” 

Will chokes on-air, placing his head into the elbow of his free arm and coughing violently. Hannibal squeezes Will’s hand, probably restraining himself from scolding her. 

“I’m kidding, congratulations! It's rare to see two people made perfectly for each other. So please don’t give me two Christmas’.” Abigail’s teasing causes Will to laugh. Soon the pair of them are laughing together while Hannibal’s smile softens. 

Hannibal feels his heart strain at the feeling. Was it happiness? Maybe it was the feeling of being whole, but it’s strange because he’s not genuinely complete yet. Not to Will anyway, Abigail has seen both sides of him, yet Will remains ignorant.

The scent of fever touches his nose again, and his smile drops, looking at Will. Will is happily explaining some story to Abigail, maybe the Buster cup incident? If Hannibal were to ask what they were talking about now, it would be rude. Abigail looks over at Hannibal. When she sees his expression, she quickly focuses on Will again, wisely not engaging with him. 

It’s only a matter of time before Will loses time again; Hannibal finds himself anxious at the implications. When Will reaches his becoming, will he still allow such gentle touches from Hannibal? Hannibal can’t stop the game now, but he can change the rules. Hannibal squeezes Will’s hand again and puts on a smile for when Will turns to look at him.

“What’re you smiling about?” Will goofily says. Hannibal sighs and leans over to kiss Will’s cheek. Abigail covers her eyes dramatically and gags, which makes Hannibal chuckle. No matter what trauma she’s gone through, she’s still a child compared to Hannibal and Will. It’s comforting to know she can even act her age.

“I’m smiling about how grateful I am to have my own family,” Hannibal states proudly. Will blushes and turns away stubbornly to hide it. Abigail uncovers her eyes to take a chicken nugget and feed it to Will. Hannibal watches his small family, happiness buzzing around him. Abigail's expression slowly sobers up as the meal between Abigail and Will finish up. Will, attentive as ever, is the first to notice.

”What’s the matter?” 

”I'm thinking of having Ms. Lounds to write my biography. My story. You guys would be in the book too.” Abigail confesses. Will adjusts himself in his seat, removing his hand from Hannibal’s grasp to connect his hands over his knee. Will has a mix of disappointment and concern on his expression.

“That sounds…” Will tries to think of how to say it nicely.

“Like a terrible idea. Freddie Lounds is dangerous. Forfeiting all of our privacy to Ms. Lounds.” Hannibal cuts in. Will shoots Hannibal a warning glance but doesn't argue. Will sighs deeply and takes one of Abigail’s hands into his. 

“Freddie is…preying on your vulnerability. I won’t discourage you further, but we’re here for you. I don’t know why you need this book written now, but I can assure you that everything in the present will change.” Will softly explains. Abigail gives a sullen look at his words, looking to the side to avoid eye contact with both men but allowing Will to still hold her hand.

“You don’t need our permission or approval, but we hope it means something.” Hannibal is soft, gentle with his words. Abigail sniffles, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Everyone thinks I’m a monster. Why can’t I prove I’m not?” Abigail asks miserably. . Will holds her hand in a reassuring grip.

“You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone,” Will firmly says. Hannibal leans closer to place his hand on top of their hands, connecting the three of them.

“If you open this door, you won’t control what comes through, Abigail.” Hannibal and Abigail maintain eye contact. A mutual look of determination burned in their eyes. Will looks in between them, trying to figure out why he feels alienated from their discussion. Will leans over and bumps his shoulder into Hannibals. Hannibal and Will face each other, Will’s features softening into a tender smile.

“But,” Will looks at Abigail, who’s rubbing tears away from her eyes with her free hand.

“We’ll be with you every step of the way,” Will assures. 

Their tender moment together is short-lived as a nurse walks in to inform them Abigail has to go to a mandatory craft activity. Will and Hannibal help Abigail clean up and wave her goodbye. They make their way out of the hospital and into Hannibal’s vehicle. After buckling up, Will sighs deeply.

“What’s the matter, mylimasis?” Hannibal glances over at Will before he starts driving out of the parking lot, heading towards the main road. Will crosses his arms, frowning as he’s left alone with his thoughts.

“I’m just worried about Abigail. She’s going to do something impulsive. She had that look in her eyes that the dogs give you when you drop their leash before running.” Will expresses. Hannibal chuckles at the analogy.

“I worry, also. Ms. Lounds has been in court six times for libel. I assume Abigail and her conversation before we arrived must’ve gone a different path than she hoped for.” Hannibal gives his thoughts to Will. Will laughs and shakes his head.

“I can only assume Freddie said something about one of us, and Abigail shut down negotiations. Probably about me being an unstable sugar baby.” 

Hannibal jerks the wheel slightly, the car going over the fog line briefly. Will cries out in shock and gives Hannibal a harsh glare as he corrects his driving.

“Apologies. I don’t believe you’re a sugar baby. I believe I don’t pay for services you allow me to perform on you.” Hannibal purrs. Will snorts loudly in amusement, leaning back in the passenger seat.

“Is that what you’re calling my “avoiding conversation” method?” Will smirks. Hannibal adopts a displeased expression on his face as he continues his drive towards home. 

“Are you sleeping over tonight? It might be wise considering what happened earlier.”

Hannibal sure knows how to bring down someone's mood fast. Will clicks his tongue in displeasure at the question, looking out the window. Imagining a horned creature running alongside the car with morbid amusement.

“I’ll sleepover. I’m not sure I can drive confidently in my condition…” Will trails off. An idea pops into his head, and Will glances at Hannibal, taking the time to sensually cross his legs. Rubbing his upper thigh before crossing his arms. Will watches Hannibal try to follow the movement while driving. 

“However, I want to avoid some more conversation when we get home. Preferably with me leading.” Will whispers to him. Hannibal’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly. Will smirks at how Hannibal’s self-control is tested by such a simple statement.

“You’re a vixen,” Hannibal whispers. Will laughs and takes out his phone, sending a text to his neighbor about watching the dogs for tonight. Humming happily as they gave him a positive response back. When Will looks up, they’re closer to the city, the buildings becoming more frequent and built with brick.

“You have all night to call me such pet names.” Will teases. Hannibal doesn’t reply, but the speedometer goes up a few pegs. Will turns to look out the window to watch the scenery going by. Slowly recognizing the neighborhood as Hannibal returns to his home. Hannibal pulls into the driveway and parks the car, Will is the first one out and waits by the front door. Hannibal isn’t far behind him, placing a hand on the small of Will’s back affectionately.

“Oh, that reminds me, I have a surprise for you.” Hannibal smiles, unlocking the door and bringing Will inside. Hannibal guides him towards the kitchen, letting Will go to open his backyard. Will follows behind him with a raised eyebrow. Hannibal opens his shed and steps aside for Will to look into.

The shed was neatly organized with hanging gardening tools and a spade or two tucked behind a polished wood panel in the shed’s back. However, when Will looks over to the shed’s walls, there are three kneels in three different sizes designed as small houses. Opposite of them is an oak wood chest with bones carved into the corners of it for accents. 

Will slowly steps into the shed, his hand tracing the chest, and he crouches down to inspect the dog kennels. There are soft dog beds in each one, with a small vent blowing warm air into the kennel.

“...Do these have an air conditioning connected too or just a heater?”

“Central air, heated floors for them also.”

Will gets up and approaches Hannibal fast, grabbing both sides of his face and crashing their lips together. The force of the kiss pins Hannibal against the wall next to the shed door, Will moves his hand down to grab Hannibal’s coat tightly to keep Hannibal in place. When Will has run out of breath, he pulls back, panting while looking into Hannibal’s eyes.

“I’ll give you 30 seconds to go upstairs and be ready for me.” Will removes his grip from Hannibal’s coat, patting his chest cheekily.

“Timer starts now.”

Hannibal makes no waste to hurry out of the shed. Will watches him rush inside and maneuver his way around the kitchen before making the turn towards the stairs. 

Will smirks and slowly starts to follow Hannibal’s trail, looking at the remnants of his coat and jacket hanging from the banister. Will makes sure to take his time going up the stairs, even tapping the railing to add some excitement to their game. When Will reaches the top of the stairs, he takes off his jacket, letting it thump on the floor. Kicking off his shoes near it so he can cushion his footsteps. Will slowly enters Hannibal’s room, his hand cautiously opening the door.

Will’s first steps are quiet and aren’t meant to alert Hannibal to his presence. Will looks around the room with no sign of Hannibal’s except for a dress shirt lying in the walk-in closet. Will gets more confident, sure that Hannibal must’ve left it so he can pounce on him. Will smirks as he walks into the closet, picking up the shirt and peering around in the dark. 

There’s no sound around him, complete silence from the clothes blocking the noise. The thump of his own heartbeat in his ears is the only sound he hears. Will pats around the clothes, trying to find Hannibal hiding between them. Will goes further into the darkness of Hannibal’s closet. Something that vaguely shines in the little light allowed in the dark space catches his eye. It’s tucked behind a hanging organizer with colored scarfs in each cubby.

Will reaches out and touches the scarfs, feeling their soft wool in his fingertips. Next, he starts to push the organizer over to get a better look at what’s hidden away in Hannibal’s closet. When Will pushes the organizer, it makes a scratching noise on the metal rod, making Will curse silently. On the bright side, a plastic zipper jumpsuit is freed from the awkward wedge it was in before, its full appearance being quite odd. Will touches it lightly, smoothing out the large wrinkle that formed in its prison. Then his attention is drawn away from the suit and to the void behind the clothes. A faint breathing sound comes from it. Will squints his eyes to adjust to the dark but sees nothing there. 

Will exhales the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. He steps back away from the space. Moving the cubby back over just as he catches a glimpse of two milk-white eyes blink from the spot he had inspected before. A clawed, black hand shoots out and grabs his hand, attempting to pull him into the darkness.

Before Will can react, there’s an arm around his neck. Will’s fight or flight senses go haywire as adrenaline fills his body. The arm around his neck is pressing hard, Will feels himself open air, the feeling of icy fear shoots through him. Will quickly steps to the side, takes a free hand, and slams it into the groin behind him. When he feels the person behind him groan and lean over, he elbows the perpetrator in the face.

**CRUNCH**.

Another pained groan follows the sound. Will throws the now loosened arm off from his neck, coughing violently as he runs into the bedroom for safety. Will braces himself against a dresser to calm him, trying to catch his breath.

A few moments pass before Hannibal stumbles out of the closet, holding his nose. There’s blood seeping from between his fingers, dripping onto the floor. Will turns and looks over at Hannibal, his eyes widening.

“Oh fuck… Hannibal!” Will yells. Quickly rushing over to Hannibal and using the shirt still in his hand like a rag to catch the blood. Hannibal takes the shirt from Will, and reluctantly uses it as Will had before. Will takes Hannibal by the shoulders and guides him to the bed, making him sit on it.

“Fuck, fuck, shit!” Will cruses. Will’s breathing picking up as he panics. Will starts to pace back and forth, his hands running through his hair as his anxiety builds. Will had just broken Hannibal’s nose, he didn’t know it was Hannibal, but he still broke his nose.

“Will.”

There’s no way in hell that Hannibal would stay with him now if this is what happens when Hannibal surprises him.

“Will…”

Their relationship is still so fresh. To have it end now would be a tragedy. Abigail had said she didn’t want two Christmas’. Would Abigail understand or be upset that Will had ruined their family?

“Will!” Hannibal's voice cut through him like a knife. Will stays frozen mid-pace and gives Hannibal his attention.

“You didn’t break my nose. Just made it bleed.” Hannibal states calmly. Will stares at him for a moment before adjusting his position to face Hannibal and cross his arms over his chest.

“So if we went to the doctors right now, they wouldn’t set it?” Will counters. Hannibal remained silent, coughing awkwardly.

“...let’s stop the bleeding first,” Hannibal suggested. Will goes into the bathroom, underneath the sink, and grabs the first aid kit. Will looks at the toothbrushes and the toothpaste, snorting.

“Have I ever expressed that your toothpaste makes me gag? How do you shove pure mint paste into your mouth?” Will tells Hannibal as he exits the bathroom. Hannibal is sitting upright, slightly leaning forward while pinching his nose with his now bloody dress shirt. Will feels a pang of guilt for ruining the shirt.

“It’s an acquired taste. However, I can assume you’re bringing this up to change the subject.” Hannibal has a more nasally voice due to his clogged nose. Will watches as Hannibal takes the shirt off his nose and gestures to the box with his hand.

“Gauze?” 

Will opens the box and gets the gauze he requested. Hannibal opens the packet and twists it around to plug it into his nose, tilting his head back into a proper position. Will closes the first aid kit and looks at the blood-stained shirt, frowning.

“I don’t think you can salvage it…” Will shyly tells him. Will reaches over to pinch the fabric, rubbing it together. Hannibal hums, rubbing his nose in an examining manner. Hannibal takes a hiss of breath to a particular spot but doesn’t make any noise otherwise.

“I don’t believe you broke my nose. Simply hit it in the right spot.” Hannibal assured. Will doesn’t feel any less guilty about it. His frown deepens as he sits next to Hannibal on the bed.

“Why did you think trying to choke me from being was a good idea in the first place?” Will mumbles, anger lining underneath his words. Hannibal sighed and started folding the bloody dress shirt, clicking his tongue in disappointment at its loss. Once that’s done, Hannibal looks over to Will, giving him all of his attention.

“I apologize. I assumed we were playing cat and mouse. Although looking back now… It glossed over me that you wanted to be the cat.” Hannibal seems apologetic, yet Will is still frustrated with him. Will pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning back until he’s lying down on the bed. Hannibal joins him seconds later, turning his head to look at Will.

“Maybe we should have a quieter evening? Shall I make some tea?” Hannibal tries. Will doesn’t respond, so Hannibal reaches over and takes Will’s chin, turning his head to look at him. Will doesn’t look pleased but keeps his mouth shut.

“...I have some cinnamon whiskey hidden in the cellarette,” Hannibal adds. Will’s face twists as he thinks. Will sighs before giving Hannibal a soft look.

“Fine.” 

Hannibal takes his hand away and gets up. Hannibal puts on a plain t-shirt from his pajama drawer, Will is confident it has to be some luxury brand. Will can’t imagine Hannibal shopping at Walmart or any department store. Will gets up and places the first aid kit on the bathroom sink. When he gets out, Hannibal is waiting for him by the door. Will smiles; Hannibal mirrors it and leads Will downstairs. 

Hannibal only glances at the discarded items of Will and his own by the stairs, opting to ignore it in favor of making Will a drink. They enter the parlor room, where Will flops down on the couch. As uncomfortable as it is, Will doesn’t mind it much. Will watches Hannibal fiddle around with the cellarette to get him his cinnamon whiskey. Will’s eyes wander to look around the room. It looks quite different without the Christmas decorations, carved expertly with intricate designs into every wooden crevice. Will’s attention was taken away from the interior designer when Hannibal extended a glass to him. 

Will gives a mumbled thank you and grabs the glass. Taking a cautious sip and finding himself surprised it was drinkable. Will relaxes back into the couch, taking another sip of whiskey. Hannibal has his classic wine glass in hand, holding it with his middle finger. Will refuses to tell him it looks ridiculous; he already hurt Hannibal enough for the year with one punch.

“Do we have to go to the doctors for your nose?”

Hannibal peeks at him over the rim of his wine glass. Will sees a small smirk on Hannibal’s lips form before he places the glass down.

“No. It’s not fractured. It’ll most likely bruise and swell. The crack you heard was most likely your elbow against the cartilage.”

Will takes a longer time to examine Hannibal’s nose. The bridge looks bent, with its sides swelling up. It’s redder around the area with a few concentrated red regions on it. To say Will could see the bullshit Hannibal was trying to sell him from a mile away would be an understatement. Will throws back his drink, shaking his head before taking a refreshed exhale.

“Finish your wine glass. I’m driving to urgent care.” Will orders. Hannibal gives Will an unimpressed look, taking a sip of wine with silent disbelief.

“I’m okay, Will.” Hannibal tries to argue. Will rises, bending forward to place the glass on the coffee table with a loud _clunk_.

“I’m going to get my coat and boots from upstairs. Are you going to put your suit jacket on with your shirt?” Will doesn’t leave room for Hannibal to argue, ignoring his protests.

“Yes. I’ll use my shoes by the door.” Hannibal sighs, defeated. Will makes a cheeky click with his teeth before heading upstairs to put back on his coat and shoes. When he looks down from the top, he sees Hannibal dressing in his hanging clothes. Will watches him make an expression he can discern as a sulking one. Will trots down the stairs as Hannibal has started to put his shoes on by the door.

“Where are your keys?”

“In my pocket.”

“I’m driving. Hand them over.”

Hannibal looks at Will as if he has two heads. Will is tempted to laugh but keeps up a stern appearance for Hannibal’s sake. 

“I’d rather you not.” Hannibal politely refuses.

“I’d rather you did,” Will argued. Will extends his hand out, palm open. A heated glower is shared by both of them. Hannibal is the first to break the silent battle between them by giving an inelegant sigh of defeat. Going into his coat pocket and setting the keys into Will’s hand. Will beams from ear to ear, retracting his hand back, spinning the keys on his index finger in victory.

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


Hannibal’s nose was indeed broken, the poor urgent care doctor had to deal with Hannibal’s stubbornness that he didn’t need treatment. In the end, Hannibal’s nose is bandaged and set by an exhausted doctor who Hannibal asks for his business card.

On the way back to Hannibal’s home, Will’s briefly distracted by the card in Hannibal's hand. Curiosity gnaws at him. He couldn’t remember Hannibal having a place for any business cards. Hannibal’s wallet held the bare essentials from what he had seen of it, no business cards peeking through.

“Is the card for insurance?”

Hannibal looks down at the card, taking out his wallet to tuck it away from sight. Will puts his finger back around the steering wheel.

“Yes, I’m cautious. The American healthcare system has a habit of marking up prices for certain things.” Hannibal’s sparse words float through the car. There’s an amount of detachment for them that Will suspects isn’t the real reason he took a card. Maybe Hannibal was one of those people that leave long, scathing reviews on RateMDs or something similar. Will doesn’t have much time to ask as they arrive back home. Once parked, Hannibal is quick to remove himself from the car, sulking to some degree on his way inside the house. Will follows behind him, making it all the way upstairs until Hannibal is in the master bedroom, disposing of the blood-stained shirt and undressing into his pajamas.

“I don’t know why you’re sulking. Realistically I should be sulking since it’s my fault we ended up here.” Will pipes up. Hannibal gives him a brooding stare. Will raises an eyebrow at it, is Hannibal upset with him?

“I’m perfectly capable of setting and bandaging a broken nose, especially ok myself. You didn’t need to bring me to any clinic.” Hannibal’s curt reply only confirms Will's suspicions. Will walks over to Hannibal and stands in front of him before kneeling, placing his head on Hannibal’s knees and looking up at him.

“What do you want to do tonight? I’ll do anything you say.” Will says in a low voice. Hannibal does immediately respond, taking a hand and brushing his fingers through Will’s curls. Will leans into the touch while closing his eyes, giving a sigh as he relaxes. A few moments pass before Hannibal retreats his hand, Will looks at him again with his clear blue eyes. Hannibal finds himself memorized by them, beaming at Will, unable to remain upset at him.

“Then… you’ll promise to attend a doctor’s appointment with me.”

Will tilts his head with narrowed eyes. His pink lips pursue in apparent confusion.

“We just… went to the doctors,” Will utters in disbelief. Hannibal nods, reaching out to hold Will’s cheeks. Will’s cheeks push together comically; Hannibal chuckles.

“Yes, we did. I’ve been haunted by what happened earlier today, and… I wanted to have your brain examined by a neurologist.” Hannibal confesses. Will tenses underneath his hands before he sits back on his heels, away from Hannibal’s knees. Will looks down at the floor, his eyebrows furrowed.

  
  


“It’ll be performed by an old friend of mine. I’ll schedule it for you.” Hannibal reaches over to place his hands on Will’s shoulders. Will looks up at him. It’s a wide-eyed flustered look that makes his eyebrows furrowed, with his pink lips parted with disbelief. Hannibal etches his muse into his mind palace, pocketing the idea to draw Will later.

“But… you said that it was because of stress.” Will eventually recalls. Hannibal tightens his fingers on Will’s shoulders. Hannibal gives a disarming smile that leaves Will with a pit in his stomach.

“Losing time isn’t because of stress; something more is happening,” Hannibal stresses the point by moving a hand to cup Will’s cheek. Will suppressed the urge to lean into the comforting hand. Will took Hannibal’s offend hand off his cheek and rose up to stand above Hannibal. The latter sitting up straight, his breath-holding as Will processes his statements.

“You’re a real piece of work, Hannibal…” A hand goes into his hair and pulls back his curls from his forehead. The expression on his emotion is a delicate balance between fury and disbelief. “Why even fucking try to say it was stress in the first place?”

“I was misguided,” Hannibal says with a plea hidden in his words, a desperate need for Will to listen. Hannibal gets to his feet and approaches Will as if he’s a dangerous animal. When he’s face to face, Hannibal uses a gentle hand to comfort Will, bringing it up to his cheek for another attempt. Will doesn’t accept it right away but gives a long exhale and relaxes.

“Fine. I’ll go to the doctors, set it up.”

Hannibal is full of delight and smiles. Leaning close to kiss Will, not expecting a kiss back. The scent of fever lingered under his nose even as he moved away, Hannibal was going to miss that sweet scent, but it’s a noble sacrifice to keep Will by his side.

“Let’s have dinner first, hmm?” Hannibal hummed. Will keeps looking at Hannibal with anger lurking in his blue eyes. Hannibal is tempted to bring his thumb to the eye and gouge it out. However, he won’t. He doesn’t have a reason to.

“Let’s.” Is Will’s tense reply. Detaching Hannibal’s hand from his cheek and making his way to the doorway, pausing to glance back.

“Going my way?”

Hannibal gives a predatory smile and follows him dutifully.

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


There’s a distinct beeping sound that wakes, Will from his slumber. A long breath in and his eyes adjusting to the morning light. Will hauls himself over to see Hannibal’s side; Will sees him sitting up, a phone to his ear. Hannibal’s low whisper, too soft for his ears to pick up this early in the morning. Will rubs his eyes and forces himself to sit up. The phone call is ended, and Hannibal stays frozen in his spot.

“What’s the matter?” Will's voice is still rough with sleep. It growls at the end. Hannibal shivers off whatever froze him and puts a mask of happiness on as he fixes his gaze to his sleepy darling.

“Nothing, mylimasis. Go back to bed.” Hannibal scoots over and leans in, pausing. Thinking better of it, he shuffles out of bed. Heading towards the bathroom, leaving Will alone in the bed. 

Will twists himself to reach over to the bedside table, picking up his phone and flipping it open. Squinting as the time 5:45 AM blinked on the LED screen. Will closes the phone with a loud click, massaging his temple and leaning against the headboard.

Hannibal steps out with his underwear, taking a quick scan around the room. The first thing he sees is Will dropping in and out of consciousness. Hannibal saunters over to the closet, proceeding to get ready. After Hannibal finishes crafting his appearance for the day, he glances to see that Will was defeated by sleep in the end. Hannibal makes his way around and bends down to kiss Will’s lips. Will doesn’t stir, Hannibal doesn’t push further, exiting the room, going downstairs to prepare breakfast. 

As he pulls out the supplies, a part of him hopes Will might wake up and eat with him, but as he makes his strawberry crepes, it becomes less and less likely. Hannibal’s mood now soured; he lets himself resign to making Will a covered plate and eating by himself in the dining room. Hannibal decides to write a short note to Will before leaving. Looking up the staircase as he passes, hoping for a quick glimpse of Will but is left disappointed again. 

Hannibal supposes he should remedy the issue later or wait for Will to come to his senses. However, the more pressing matter of their daughter being disobedient, spiteful. Desperate to sell her innocence in a short time. Taking the forefront of his mind, Hannibal might be in the right mood to properly scold her into thinking for once. Sighing deeply, Hannibal plops into the driver side seat and starts the engine. Watching his bedroom window for some form of life before backing out.

Will wakes up, officially this time, at the decent time of 10:45 AM. The side of the bed that once held Hannibal is cold, abandoned. Will staggers out of bed, his legs not yet adjusted to his awake status. Will walks into the bathroom and wets his toothbrush before shoving it into his mouth. Will stares at his reflection before spitting into the sink, washing it down before putting his toothbrush back and walking out. Will takes his phone from the nightstand and manages to get down the stairs, only grabbing the rail once to support himself.

When he gets into the kitchen, he sees a covered plate with a note underneath it. Picking up the cover to poke at the cold food, calculating the time needed to warm it. Placing it into the microwave, then presses the number required to make his crepes enjoyable again. Will goes back to the note, picking it up and reading it.

_Good morning my dear. I have an urgent matter to attend to this morning concerning Abigail. I’ll discuss what I can when I come back. I have made you strawberry crepes for breakfast. I fear they may be cold when you stir from your slumber. - Hannibal <3 _

It’s written in less incoherent cursive, Will doesn’t need his 3rd-grade textbook to decipher it anymore. Will smiles at Hannibal’s cheesiness, folding the note and chucking it into the garbage. Will opens his phone and sends a “thank you” to Hannibal. 

The microwave timer beeps, and Will is quick to retrieve his precious food. Taking it with him to the dinner table, almost sitting down when he realizes he doesn’t have any utensils or drink. Mentally kicking himself as he takes the walk of shame back into the kitchen. 

The first thing he notices on this trip is Hannibal having removed his island chairs and coffee pot. The coffee pot has a tin canister labeled with a brand he recognizes next to it with some generic filters. Of course, it’s separated from Hannibal’s beaned coffee’s pure art, with its matching grinder. 

Smiling fondly, Will grabs what he needs, making sure to fill his water glass half full before sitting down and digging in. Taking his time between every bite while going through his emails on his phone. Clicking the buttons to open every piece of spam, order conformations, store deals, etc. Will is only a mouthful away from finishing when his phone starts ringing in his hand. Will swallows hard, only having some food still left in his mouth.

“Hel...lo?” Will answers, pausing to swallow briefly. 

“Will!” James’ voice rang in his ears. Will winces at the sound to which James makes a quiet “sorry” to make up. Will adjusts the phone in his hand to get a better angle to multitask.

“What are you calling for? I’m pretty sure I’m off…” Will mutters, looking around for a calendar before mentally kicking himself for forgetting he’s not in his house.

“Has Hannibal said anything about Abigail?”

Now that has Will’s attention.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh fuck, of course… um…” James goes quiet. A news broadcast is playing faintly in the background of Janes’ home. Will can’t hear the news anchor’s voice, obscured by James’ sighs. “They found Nicholas Boyle’s body.” 

The sentence makes Will freeze up, dropping his fork onto the plate with a loud _CLINK._ Will’s mind reaching around for the connection he’s been missing.

Hannibal left because Nicholas Boyle has been found. Freddie had written on TattleCrime that he was the copycat killer Will had discussed with Hannibal when they first met. Something is missing; why would Boyle brutalize his sister and a friend of Abigail? Why those two?

“Will?” James’ asks, brimming with concern.

“Sorry. I have to go.”

“Wai—“

_Click_. Will abruptly ends the call. Shoving his phone into his pocket and hurriedly pushing himself back away from the table. Hurrying out of the dining room, making his way into the living room, looking around the room for a tv. After finding no traces of a TV, Will goes upstairs and starts looking around Hannibal’s room for any sign of a tv that could be hiding.

Thoroughly irritated, Will takes out his phone and texts Hannibal.

[Will]

Do you have a TV?

[Hannibal]

Good morning dear, did you get my note?

[Will]

Yes. Morning. Answer the question.

[Hannibal]

That’s good. I hope you’ve enjoyed breakfast.

[Will]

Didn’t finish it. 

Answer. The. Question.

[Hannibal]

No, I don’t own a TV. Never had the need, radio, and newspaper work well enough.

[Will]

…

Do you have an extra iPad lying around?

[Hannibal]

In my desk in the living room, I keep it unlocked.

Will shoves his phone into his pocket and hurrying downstairs to the living room. Looking through the desk drawers. When Will finds the iPad, he could almost sob in relief, picking it up and removing its cover. After clicking the power button, he swipes to unlock it. Swiping to look for the app he needs, accessing Safari.

_Nicholas Boyle_ , Will writes into the search bar. Instantly the page is covered with the news. Will clicks on a site that has been his company on the recent crime stories he’s cleaned up for. Looking at the TattleCrime article on Hannibal’s iPad screen makes the crime seem impersonal. However, Will knows the conclusion to the Nicholas Boyle case will directly affect Abigail in some way.

Nicholas Boyle’s body was discovered frozen. Freddie writes that he cannot tell if he died weeks ago or yesterday. Despite the freshness of the case, there’s a picture of Nicholas. It shows that he was gutted, possibly died no more than a month or two ago, judging by the fact that he’s rotting.

Will slowly closes his eyes, and he’s transported to the Hobbs’ house. Will approaches the faun creature he had seen once before. It’s breathing heavily. It’s panicked. When he grabs its shoulder to turn it around, he gasps in pain. When Will looks down, it’s clawed hand is embedded in his gut. It jerks it’s hand, gutting him. When he falls onto the ground and looks up at the creature, the black goo surrounding it melts away. Abigail stands above him in tears, looking desperate. The horned man stands next to her and crouches down over Will’s body. The horned man smiles as Abigail looks to him for guidance.

When Will’s eyes open, he’s still sitting on the couch. Will slowly processes what he just learned about the case. Will feels his perception of Abigail distorting. How long has he been lied to? Has she manipulated Hannibal in the same fashion? Will's head jerks up as the front door is clicked open, signaling Hannibal’s return. Will places the iPad down and crosses his arms and legs, leaning back against the couch. 

Looking out the window, seeing that time has passed since his search and his reconstruction. It’s almost sunset, the sky turning a breathtaking red. Will doesn’t acknowledge Hannibal when he steps into the living room.

“You didn’t clean up your breakfast.” Hannibal sighed, a hint of exhaustion lingering in his voice. Will ignores him, continuing to watch the sunset. Hannibal sighs and walks out of the room. There’s the clink of dishes being cleaned up, Will strains his ears to listen to Hannibal wash them. When the water stops, Hannibal is back in the living room, walking towards his desk. Taking his rightful place on his leather chair and taking out a journal to draw in.

“Your appointment is a week from now, it’s on Friday at 3:30pm.” Hannibal taps his pencil on the paper twice before continuing to sketch. As the sun finally sets and the street lamps illuminate with their warm light, Will decides to break the silence. Will makes a hum, uncrossing his arms to put his hands on either side of his legs.

“Abigail Hobbs killed Nick Boyle.” Will turns his head over to look at Hannibal. Watching as the man seems surprised, then looks down, guilty.

“I know.”

Will takes a sharp breath in, nodding his head with a scowl on his lips. His eyebrows furrowing as he glares over to Hannibal.

“Hm. Tell me why _you_ know.” Will takes a hand and gestures to Hannibal. Hannibal slowly places his pencil down as he thinks about what to say next.

“I helped dispose of the body.” 

“Goddammit, Hannibal!” Will yells in pure fury. Uncrossing his legs and propelling himself off the couch. Will paces while placing his hand on his forehead, rubbing it as a headache starts to pulse behind his eyes. Will stands facing the window with his head low and his shoulders hunched over.

“Obviously, you haven’t done this before. You didn’t hide it well enough.” Will growls. Will hears Hannibal move something on the desk before clicking his tongue. The chair creaks as Hannibal’s weight is taken off it, and his footsteps grow closer to Will. They stop right behind him, and Will refuses to react to him.

“Now you know what happened that night, except for the end.”

“Do I?” It’s vulnerable, raw with emotion. Hannibal places a hand on his hip cautiously, his fingers carefully flexing against his belt.

“Nicholas Boyle attacked us, Abigail defended herself, and I lied about it.”

“Why?”

“...You know why because she would’ve taken her father's place, blamed for his crimes. Her story would end there, and Freddie Lounds would write her own interpretation.” Hannibal whispers to Will. Will turns his head away, removing his hand from his face and looking at Hannibal through the reflection of the window. 

“Abigail is no more of a killer than you are for shooting her father, or I am for the death of Tobias Budge.” Hannibal places his other hand on Will’s waist, effectively trapping him in this spot. Will glares at the reflection of Hannibal.

“It isn’t our place to decide, Hannibal,” Will argues.

“Then, whose? No one knows Abigail better than us. Or the weight she carries on her shoulders...” Hannibal sounds desperate for Will to understand. Hannibal places his chest against Will’s back and hugs Will’s waist tightly. Will can feel his chest tighten uncomfortably at the radiating sadness filling him.

“We are her fathers now.” 

Will doesn’t respond, but he does start to tremble slightly; the feeling in his chest is too much to bear. Will blinks, and tears slip down his cheeks. They don’t stop once they start. Will effectively crashing down from the rollercoaster he has been taken on since yesterday.

“We can tell no one…” Hannibal’s arms tighten, almost becoming painful for Will. “We’re doing the right thing… This will be the only story we’ll tell.”

Will slowly sinks into Hannibal’s grip, surrendering himself. Hannibal keeps him standing, leaning over to kiss Will’s neck affectionately.

“For Abigail…” Will sniffles. Hannibal brings up a thumb to wipe away Will’s tears, putting his thumb’s pad into his mouth to get rid of the tears. Will watches the reflection as Hannibal’s figure grows horns and his eyes turn milky, a shuddering breath leaves his body.

“For Abigail,” Hannibal assures.

  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  


Will is invited to dinner two days after the Abigail incident, reluctantly accepting only due to Hannibal saying Abigail insisted on him being there. Will doubts it but allows Hannibal to sweet-talk him into it, promising Will a good whiskey nightcap. When he arrived, Hannibal had shooed him upstairs to change, Will thought his brown flannel and black slacks looked nice on him. However, it seems Hannibal and he has yet to agree on that.

Getting dressed in yet another suit Hannibal has sneakily ordered for him, Will wears a flannel from home as his dress shirt. Smirking to himself about how Hannibal will surely put on a rare scowl for this one. Leaving the room and heading to the dining room, seeing another lavish setup of flowers for the season. Will hears Hannibal in the kitchen, happily preparing the meal. Will walks in and looks over to see a separate meal created with only vegetables.

“Who’s going vegan?” Will asks. Hannibal turns his head to looks over.

“Freddie Lounds. She gave me a brief call to tell me.” 

Will nods, then stop.

“Freddie Lounds is joining us?” Will questions with a heated glare. Hannibal turns back to the main dish, trying to ignore Will’s glare.

“Abigail had extended an invitation. I admit that I didn’t put much of a fight.” Hannibal slowly confesses. Will sighs, tapping his foot.

“And when are they arriving?”

The doorbell rings. Hannibal flashes a quaint smile.

“Be a dear, and please let the guests in.” Hannibal hums. Will groans but walks to the foyer while taking out glasses from his chest pocket and slipping them on. Will open the door, a big smile on his face as the two pale faces of Freddie and Abigail stand side by side. 

“Welcome—“

Abigail doesn’t let Will finish. She hugs Will tightly, causing a small wheeze to leave him as he gives her a one-armed hug. Freddie smiles at the display, clearly forming opinions as he observes.

“Please come inside, Ms. Lounds,” Will finally manages when Abigail lets go, happily waiting for Freddie by the dining room.

“Thank you, Mr. Graham, or is it Mr. Lecter?” Freddie subtly hints. Will coughs politely and closes the door behind her.

“Just Mr. Graham.” Will deflects. 

“Hannibal has really decored the dining room this time, is there an occasion?” Abigail asks. Will shakes his head as he follows Abigail into the dining room, pulling out the chair for her to sit then does the same for Freddie. Will pours water for everyone and pours the preselected wine for the adults. Will sits down across from Freddie, looking at her through the rims of his glasses.

“I hope we’re not keeping you from helping Dr. Lecter in the kitchen,” Freddie says, a small smirk on her lips. Will gets his smile turn into a closed mouth grin and sip on some water.

“No, he shooed me away before I could help. Thank you for calling in advance about your diet. Hannibal would’ve been devastated to be unknowingly rude.” 

Freddie hums, sipping some wine. Abigail observes the two of them.

“Hannibal makes the best food, he made me honey ham once, and I haven’t thought about having any other food since.” Abigail smiles, Will relaxes a bit but sees Freddie’s smile falter. Picking up on the discomfort coming from Freddie, Will is quick to clear his throat to gain their attention.

“We have time to talk about Hannibal’s cooking when we start eating,”

On cue, Hannibal enters the dining room with the plates. Quickly place them in front of each person sitting at the table. After they’re all set, he garnishes them with a sauce.

“This sauce was made in mind of Ms. Lounds’ dietary restriction. It’s a raspberry vinaigrette.” Hannibal happily supplies. Pouring it beautifully on the plate before placing the vinaigrette down and sitting down.

“I never took you for someone to write a book; I had believed you’ll stay with your articles. You have a certain way of writing that keeps the audience entertained for a short amount of time.” Will takes a bite of the meat, his voice lowering as he chews. Freddie huffs a laugh as she happily eats her vegetables. Abigail coughs, which doesn’t completely cover the tail end of her shocked laughter.

“I suppose you’re still angry about my articles about you, Mr. Graham?” Freddie’s amusement is poorly hidden if she even attempted to hide it at all. 

“Articles? There’s more than just calling me insane?” Will scowls at her. Freddie tilts her head, unintimidated.

“Ah, but we’re all a little insane, aren’t we? Some in more ways than others.” Freddie neats cut up her vegetables as she’s saying this. Will furrows his eyebrows and looks down at his plate.

“By choosing what version fits you best, I assume you’ve been called insane before.” Will deadpans, taking another bite. 

“Among other things. Everyone has their version of the truth. I’m here to speak Abigail’s truth.” Freddie looks over to Abigail, who gives a nervous smile, appearing bashful to an outsider’s untrained eyes. Hannibal calmly sips his wine, glancing between his lover, his daughter, and Ms. Lounds.

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Abigail’s voice wavering only slightly. Will looks over to her, searching her eyes for fear. The faun creature from before has melted into half of her face; they’ve become one in Will’s mind.

“Everyone has  _something_ they need to hide, but I’m not cruel enough to expose  _everything_ hidden.” Freddie’s eyes move from Hannibal and Will, clearly telling them she knows about their relationship. Will places the utensils down. His appetite disappears as he reaches his limit on the condensing attitude he can handle for the day.

“You must understand the concerns we have, we...” Hannibal takes a careful hand and places it over Will’s left hand. “...care about Abigail, we want to protect her.” 

“However…She's already being judged by the masses. Her silence confused for guilt. This book is about her innocence, carving a future for Abigail.” Freddie softly states. Will wonders how many people she has lulled into a false sense of security with those sugar-coated words. Will picks up his wine, bringing it close to his lips.

“We all want what’s best for Abigail.” Will’s tone doesn’t match the feeling behind the words, seemingly still tense from his verbal catfight with Freddie. Taking a healthy sip of wine and humming as the burn of alcohol made its way down his throat.

“This is possibly the finest salad I’ve ever eaten in my life! Shame to ruin it with all that meat.” Freddie gives a nice backhanded compliment to Hannibal. Hannibal doesn’t stop smiling, but Will feels his hand tighten slightly. Will places the wine down and smiles.

“I’m sure the next time will be more to your liking.” Will forces himself to be courteous. 

Dinner goes on without any more fighting or snarky remarks from either Ms. Lounds or Mr. Graham. However, dinner doesn’t turn into dessert. Ms. Lounds excusing herself from dinner. Apparently, another story she was following had just gotten a breakthrough. Hannibal urges Will to relax in the living room as he and Abigail clean up.

Will waits for them, keeping himself from pouring his own nightcap. Will wanted to be sober when the two of them finally told him what’s going on. How many secrets they’re keeping between each other?

Abigail sheepishly comes into the room with Hannibal not so far behind. Abigail’s eyes are red and puffy, clear she had been crying prior.

“I assume Hannibal has informed you.” Will breaks the ice. Abigail nods, sniffling and wiping her nose on her sweater sleeve.

“I’m sorry.” Abigail whimpers. Will’s heart breaks at the sound, but he has to keep himself firm.

“Don’t. I’m not mad. Just… disappointed in you. _Both_ of you.” Will nods between the both of them. Sighing profoundly and crossing his arms.

“We’re family, and both of you deliberately kept me in the dark about this. Is there ANYTHING else you’re hiding from me, or am I going to be the one left out of your little group?” Will looks in between Hannibal and Abigail. Their expression remained the same guilty frown at being caught by Will. Abigail looks up at Will, shaking her head so hard her hair goes in every direction but up.

“No. Nothing. I’m sorry, dad.” 

_Lord give me the strength,_ Will takes a deep sigh and opens his arms to Abigail, who gladly hurries into his chest. Will hugs her tight, Abigail wrapping her arms around his torso. Hannibal walks over and embraces the both of them, rocking slightly on the ball of his feet.

“I’m still upset with you both. Less now but still upset.” Will grumbles. Abigail giggles at his grumbling.

“We’re family.” Abigail reminds him. Will doesn’t protest her words. Remaining quiet as a soft happy feeling stirs in his chest. It feels nice to be a family, despite being forged in odd circumstances.

“No dessert for the both of you tonight. That’ll be your punishment.”

The identical groans that left both Hannibal and Abigail make it all worthwhile for the punishment. Even if, by consequence, he loses his dessert for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! Thank you all for your kind, uplifting words, I’ve tried my best to make this chapter a “Return of the King” esc for your sakes lol ❤️ 
> 
> This is the looooongest chapter I have made yet!! Pop that champagne open now because each chapter gets longer and longer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's life is full of ups and downs. When his life goes well, something always has to take him down a peg, just to keep him humble. 
> 
> However, now Will has Hannibal to pick up the pieces and mold him back together again, better than ever.
> 
> Whether that's on the sex or being a good boyfriend has yet to be decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my Beta reader, my friend Sid! I couldn't have done it without them!!!!

“I can’t work Friday. I have a doctor's appointment.” Will’s voice is steady as he talks to Barney. Standing with his arms crossed with glasses on his nose.

Boss Barney sits on his leather swivel chair that creaks underneath him as he leans forward. Crossing his thick fingers together with a scowl on his thin lips. Narrowing his eye at Will as he assessed him. Barney slowly leans back with his hands across his protruding stomach. Barney tilts his head from side to side before finally taking a breath in.

“You have to bring in the proper documentation. You know the drill.” Barney snorted. Will nods as he adjusts his glasses, pushing them up his bridge. Barney takes a hand and waves Will out of his office, Will turns tail and rushes out. Closing the door on the way out and sighing deeply. Picking his head up, Will walks down the hallway, seeing that an office was open. When he peers in, James is sitting in a chair in front of Barney's desk, chatting with Barney, who looks relaxed. 

Will knocks on the open door before entering. James looks over at him and smiles.

“Hey, stranger. It seems we see less of you these days! Why’re you here? Isn’t this your day off?” James asks. Will closes the door behind himself, giving the three of them some privacy.

“Did you get back from a job?” Will deflects. James raises an eyebrow. James nods moments later to his question. 

“James is stalling so he doesn’t have to go on a job with Brown. Since you’ve been playing sugar baby, Brown has attached himself to James.” Barney grunts as he adjusts the papers in front of him.

“I have not—“ Will flushes. James laughs, slapping his knee.

“Jesus, Barney, you really don’t know how to be subtle.”

“It’s why you… nevermind.” Barney has a smirk on his lips, clearly thinking of the reaction James would give if he finished his sentence. James rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair, turning his head awkwardly to see Will.

“So. Pray tell, what’s happening? Father James will take your confession.” James opens his arms dramatically, gesturing to Will. Will smiles at him and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“Hannibal thinks something is wrong with my brain.”

James gave him a blank look that caused Will to roll his eyes.

“Physically.”

“That’s new. ” James right himself on the chair, looking over to Will seriously. Barney places down his papers and looks over at Will. Will shrugs nonchalantly, adjusting himself to face both of them. 

“Hannibal set up an appointment, so I won’t be here Friday. Sorry about that.” Will looks into James’ eyes. James looks over at Barney then back to Will, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. James makes a disgruntled noise before sighing.

“No, no, don’t be sorry. It’s your health! I’m just trying to figure out how long you’ve been sick… especially since it’s your brain.” James leans forward and grabs a stress ball off of Barney’s desk, squeezing it. Silence fell between the three of them. Barney coughs awkwardly as he picks up his papers again. Will pats his legs and stands up stiffly, deciding on getting out of this silence.

“Okay then… I’ll get going. Don’t want to stall you any further.” Will hurriedly says. Opening the door and stepping through, nearly crashing into someone.

“Ack! Sorr—“ When Will properly looks up and to the person in the way he sees Matthew Brown. Matthew instantly lights up at his appearance, Will backs away subconsciously as a result of this.

“I’m so sorry, Will! I was looking for James. It seems my hunch was right.” Matthew craned his neck over and waves at James, who gives him a disturbed look. James’ eyes flick over to Will’s before he slams the stress ball on the desk and grabs Matthew by his shirt, and drags him away from Barney’s office. 

“Bye, Will! Hope you feel better!” Matthew waves him off as he yells down the hall. Will’s face scrunched up, frowning deeply.

“Hope you feel better…?” Will mutters to himself. Barney clears his throat, which startles Will. 

“Oh, sorry. See you Tuesday, Barney.” 

Will and Barney exchange brief waves before Will makes his way to the parking lot. When he gets to his car, a paper is stuck underneath his windshield. Lifting up the windshield wiper curiously and taking the document out, he reads it. There’s just a simple drawing of a clock. Scowling, Will crumples it up before opening his car and starting the engine. 

_ What a stupid way to tag someone _ , Will muses to himself. Maybe Will should take a long way home, just in case human traffickers are following him. Will paused before shaking his head. He really needs to stop being so paranoid. Maybe it’s a prank done by James? James hasn’t pranked him in awhile. Or maybe Boss Barney giving him another stab at being on time?

Either way, his dogs are at home waiting for him. Will can deal with this later; his babies are his main priority. 

The waiting room walls are a bright white with faux oak wood accenting the trim to match the floor. The chairs are all mismatched, with some seats older than others judging by the open tears from a once nervous patient in an armrest or two. Will and Hannibal sit on a bench near the entrance to the examination area. 

There’s a foreboding feeling that twists in Will’s stomach as he waits to be called in. Hannibal holds his hand, but it does little to calm his nerves. Hannibal is reading a magazine on his lap about the latest drama in Hollywood. Rubbing his thumb against the top of Will’s hand every so often.

“What if they don’t find anything?” Will murmurs.

“They will,” Hannibal says, turning a page.

“How can you be sure?”

“If I can smell stomach cancer from my teacher in college, I can smell if you have something wrong with your brain. Externally.” Hannibal adds the last part as an afterthought. Will opens his mouth to say more of his worries, but a nurse comes into the waiting room.

“Will Graham? Dr. Sutcliffe will see you now.”

Will stands up while Hannibal puts away the magazine. They end up walking together, going to an office instead of a standard examination room. Will finds it weird when he sees the doctor standing outside like a puppy waiting for its owner.

“You’re in good hands. Dr. Lecter is one of the sanest men I know.” Dr. Sutcliffe says proudly. The doctor holds the door open for them, walking in behind them and letting the door shut on the way in. Hannibal visibly preens under the compliment, giving a bright grin towards the doctor. Hannibal notices Will’s look of confusion, quickly leaning in.

“I agree; Dr. Sutcliffe and I were residents together,” Hannibal informs him. Will raises an eyebrow and leans away from Hannibal, crossing his arms in disbelief. Dr. Sutcliffe sinks into his leather chair, cupping his hands together, and watches them.

“At Hopkins? You’re mysterious ER surgeon days, if I’m not mistaken.” Will watches Hannibal sit down in front of Dr. Sutcliffe’s desk. Will can’t calm his nerves down to sit just yet. Instead, he stands, looking in between the two doctors.

“When he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.” Dr. Sutcliffe whispers it to him like it’s a secret. Will snorts at his attempt at humor. 

“I wanted to know more about the mind rather than the brain, less room for error.” Hannibal gives a smile that Will can tell is him warning the doctor to some degree. Will finally makes himself sit down, looking between the two doctors and how they bounced off each other.

“So Will, Hannibal mentioned headaches?” Dr. Sutcliffe asks. Will shifts uncomfortably, wringing his hands together. Thinking about everything that’s been happening to him and the symptoms he’s displayed.

“Yeah, they um, started two or three months ago when I returned to work. For the first time in my life, I sleepwalked, have hallucinations, and the final straw that broke the camel's back was losing time. Hannibal thought it was stress until I lost time.” Will supplies. He watches Dr. Sutcliffe make a face, looking over to Hannibal.

“Can you draw a clock saying 4:30 for me, Will?” Dr. Sutcliffe takes out a notepad and gives it to Will with his pen underneath his thumb. Will takes it from him, clicking the pen to draw with it. Will places the notepad in his lap and confidently draws a circle, marking the numbers around the clock and the hands placed with the time Dr. Sutcliffe had asked for. Will clicks the pen back and hands it back to the doctor in a similar way.

Dr. Sutcliffe gives a brief surprised expression but hides it by coughing. Placing the notepad down, the clock was drawn almost entirely to the paper’s right side. 

“Let’s get you ready for a scan Mr. Graham.” Dr. Sutcliffe swiftly gets up and motions for the two men to follow. A nurse greets them outside.

“Please take Mr. Graham to the examination room. He needs a gown and his vitals to be documented.” Dr. Sutcliffe lists off for her. The nurse smiles and adjusts her clipboard.

“Of course, Dr. Sutcliffe.” The nurse smiles at Will and motions for him to follow. Hannibal takes a step forward, but Dr. Sutcliffe coughs politely.

“Please follow me.” Dr. Sutcliffe walks ahead of Hannibal to guide him properly. It’s a subtle power play that Hannibal doesn’t care for. Hannibal takes a deep breath in; the smell of the hospital chemicals burns his nose. Dr. Sutcliffe’s cologne, Eros by Versace he recognizes, doesn’t dampen the chemical smell one bit.

“When you called, I was surprised. I didn’t know you now take patients to their doctors’ appointments…”

Hannibal narrowed his eyes, his hands clenching before coming to the conclusion Dr. Sutcliffe was curious. Hannibal smiles politely and bobs his head. Hannibal adjusts his arms to cross over his chest as they walk.

“Will isn’t a patient. He’s a close friend of mine.” Hannibal replies easily. Dr. Sutcliffe turns his head and looks at Hannibal for a long time, a smile spreading on his face.

“He’s not really a close friend, is he? You didn’t help me to the ER when I had those kidney stones during our residency. We used to be close friends then. He must be closer, more intimate. Are you dating Mr. Graham Hannibal?” Dr. Sutcliffe pushes. Hannibal’s lips thin into a straight line. Dr. Sutcliffe smiles as if he’s won a prize; thankfully, he doesn’t go further, finally reaching the MRI area. Dr. Sutcliffe opens the door to the control room, allowing Hannibal to enter first. He leaves the door open and sits in the swivel chair in front of two monitors in front of a sizable one-way window.

Hannibal stands beside Dr. Sutcliffe when he settles in his chair. Hannibal watches Will enter the room with the nurse, making small talk as she gives him a packet of sorts. Hannibal observes as Will places the earplugs in, shifting his gown uncomfortably as he shuffles onto the bed for the MRI.

“It’s Encephalitis,” Hannibal confesses. There’s a weight that lifts off his chest as the words leave his body. Hannibal didn’t know he had such a heavy feeling until then. He looks over to Dr. Sutcliffe, who pulls down his glasses to look at him.

“Based on…?”

“I could smell it.” Hannibal watches as disbelief dances in Sutcliffe’s eyes. Hannibal frowned and looked back over to Will, watching him. 

“If you don’t believe me, let your MRI confirm it.” Hannibal is used to the skeptical; he knows he’s right.

The doctor gave Hannibal an apprehensive look, looking back and forth from his new patient to Hannibal. Confusion pulling his eyebrows together to furrow. Crossing his arms, frowning while shifting side to side on his feet. Hannibal carefully watched the movement from the corner of his eyes, a predator watching his prey.

“If you had suspicions, why didn’t you say something?” Dr. Sutcliffe asked, his tone wavering with an anxious note. Hannibal clicks his tongue.

“I wanted to be sure. Symptoms had gradually worsened, and my worry deepened as they did.” Hannibal sighs. Hannibal held his hands in front of his waist, now paying attention to Will as the machine moved him up into the scan area.

“Oh,” Dr. Sutcliffe murmured. “Headaches, disorientation, hallucinations, and altered consciousness. It’s the telltale signs.”

Hannibal doesn’t say anything, too focused on watching Will as he slowly enters the machine. Hannibal sees his hand clench, and his mind makes him wonder what the man was thinking about with his eyes closed; however, his mind is fully awake. Dr. Sutcliffe sits down in front of his monitors. As the scan is commenced, Hannibal slowly moves behind the Doctor. Hannibal watches the screen as it slowly takes a complete picture of Will’s brain. When it’s finally over, the scan shows what Hannibal already knows. Dr. Sutcliff takes off his glasses and points them at the screen.

“The right of his brain is completely inflamed. It’s anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis. It’s only going to get worse for him…” Dr. Sutcliffe pinches the bridge of his nose. Hannibal assesses the man, stalking each twitch and shudder that came from him.

“It’s rare to be able to study the psychological effect or neurological effects of this type of ailment on a person’s mind.”

Dr. Sutcliffe pauses and puts his hand down, looking over at Hannibal. His eyes narrow as his brow furrows. Dr. Sutcliffe’s lips downturn, he places his hand on his chin. Rubbing his beard with the pad of his thumb in thought.

“A perfect scientific study to get to know the brain better, discoveries to be made…” Hannibal slowly hints. Hannibal watches the man's face, struggling to maintain his composure when he sees that Dr. Sutcliffe smirks when he comes to his decision.

“Such an opportunity, starting here?” Dr. Sutcliffe sounds hopeful, too excited for Hannibal’s liking. Hannibal puts on a polite smile for the doctor, shifting back away from him. Hannibal struggles to find what had made him like Dr. Sutcliffe in any capacity. The man’s a weasel, trying to find status in empty statements.

“But that would be malpractice.” Hannibal cuts in. Dr. Sutcliffe’s hopeful eyes die down, a frown on his lips.

“Yes… but sometimes a doctor must think for the greater good of millions rather than one patient.”

Hannibal feels something snap inside of him. Suddenly, his smile melted off his face. Finding himself looking down at Dr. Sutcliffe with disgust filling his gut. Hannibal takes another step back from the doctor and looks up to see Will exiting the machine, sitting up, and being helped out by a nurse.

“ _ However _ ,” Hannibal’s icy voice rumbled. “That patient has loved ones who care about them. There will always be another opportunity one day, not today.” 

Dr. Sutcliffe finally backs down, nodding his head in submission. Leaning back in his chair and chewing the ends of his glasses. Hannibal’s eye twitches, an annoying habit that seems to have stayed with Dr. Sutcliffe in residency.

“I didn’t take you for the type to date men. I certainly didn’t think he would be your type.” Dr. Sutcliffe changed the subject, clearing his throat. Hannibal gave an indifferent noise as a response. 

“I thought you would go for softer, more polite—“

“I don’t find this conversation very professional, Dr. Sutcliffe.” Hannibal cuts him off. Glaring down at the man with his eyes turning red when they catch in the fluorescent light. Dr. Sutcliffe stiffens, making a low wheezing sound. Hannibal files through his memories to find if Dr. Sutcliffe has had lung issues previously. 

“Yes, well, oh hello, Mr. Graham!”

Will walks into the room, looking in between the two men suspiciously. Hannibal turns to face him, a shining smile and his eyes reflecting a warm auburn. Will nods to him and focuses on Dr. Sutcliffe.

“So… what’s my diagnosis?” 

Dr. Sutcliffe puts on his glasses, taking a pencil, and tapping the monitor to have Will look at the screen. Will walks closer and leans in to look and see. The screen has a bright red mark on the right side of his brain, Will can only assume that means something is up.

“Anti-NMDA receptor encephalitis, we’ll start treatment immediately. If you’re curious about your treatment, it’ll be immunotherapy. We’ll give you that pamphlet and transfer you over to John Hopkins hospital.” Dr. Sutcliffe informed him, his voice calm and steady. Will has a troubled look on his face, his hand shaking until Hannibal takes hold of it. Will looks up at him, his lips quivering slightly.

“I’m not crazy.” Will breathes in relief. Will quickly pushes himself into Hannibal’s chest, hugging his torso tightly. Soft sobs make their way from Will’s mouth as he sinks into Hannibal. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Sutcliffe…” Will manages to sob out.

“Don’t thank me, thank Hannibal! He helped me with the diagnosis, well. Pre-diagnosis,” Dr. Sutcliffe says happily. Will doesn’t react, but Hannibal sure does, anger simmering behind his eyes.

Hannibal gives a slow glance to Dr. Sutcliffe. The spineless, disgusting man watches the two men with a frown. When their eyes meet, Dr. Sutcliffe is quick to look away red-faced. Suddenly Hannibal is interested in Cepelinai recipes, maybe making Will food from his homeland will cheer him up…

Will was sitting with the hefty pamphlet the hospital provided to detail his treatment, the immunotherapy, and insurance. Will was seated with reading glasses on his nose’s bridge by the fireplace with the dogs all crowded around the heater. Will had managed to patch the hole on his fireplace with some duct tape and a trash bag, not having yet contacted any contractor or company about it.

“Will, you don’t have anything to eat,” Hannibal informs from the kitchen. Will’s face scrunched up in confusion, looking up.

“There’s something in the pantry!” Will yells. There’s a soft sound of cans clinking together and bags rustling before footsteps returning.

“I do hope you’re not talking about that… Kraft product.” Hannibal’s disdain is evident. Will snorts, placing the papers down on the side table, getting up, and making his way to the kitchen. Watching Hannibal, dressed down in his black pressed slacks and Egyptian cotton red dress shirt, look around his pantry, taking out products and putting them back with a frown.

“Just get something out of the freezer— your meals should be there,” Will says from the doorway. Leaning against it, with a fond smile on his lips.

Hannibal glances back at Will, getting away from the pantry. Sidestepping gracefully to the fridge and opening the freezer. Picking up frozen vegetable bags to find the premium-made meals he had left in the freezer. Inspecting each one with a critical eye. 

Will took this as an opportunity to walk up behind and wrap his arms around Hannibal. Pressing his chest against Hannibal's back, Hannibal took a sharp breath and looked behind him.

“What are you planning?” Hannibal chuckles. Will gives a low chuckle as he kisses the back of Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal shivers underneath the kisses, closing the freezer to lean against the appliance while Will continued. Will uses his hands to run them against Hannibal’s chest, massaging Hannibal’s chest sensually.

“I believe that you owe me a debt,” Will mutters into the shell of Hannibal’s ear. He was kissing his ear softly as his arms reached further to unbutton his shirt slowly; once Hannibal’s chest was exposed, Will pinched at his nipples. Hannibal’s shakey moan encouraged his attack, Hannibal simply bracing himself against the fridge. His legs twitch at every pinch and pull until Will puts his hands underneath his armpits and has him against the countertop. Hannibal looks back at Will, silently spreading his legs as Will bites his lip.

Will places his groin against Hannibal’s ass and grinds against it. Hannibal gasps at the sensation, blushing as Will leans forward as he reaches to unbuckle his belt, letting it fall onto the floor. Will takes a step back to admire the scene in front of him. Hannibal’s hair has fallen out of place, and his ears have turned red on the tips. Hannibal’s eyes have hooded. The sensual look he gives Will leaves the man with shivers down his spine.

“You look blasphemous,” Will growls. Hannibal jerks closer to the cabinet, placing his thumbs underneath his waistband, and slowly pulls down his pants to give Will a complete view. 

“if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry… For it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” Hannibal pants, moving his hips side to side as he pushes his pants down to his ankles. Will blinks in surprise at his words, a laugh of disbelief spills from his lips.

“Corinthians?” Will questions. Hannibal kicks off his pants and leans against the counter to give Will a better view of his ass. Will digs into his pocket and finds the bottle of lube he squirreled away when Hannibal first texted his planned arrival.

“I wished to bring religion into the bedroom,” Hannibal smirks. Will steps forward after putting lube on his middle and ring finger, leaning against the counter over him and slowly slipping two fingers inside of him.

“A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back,” Will whispers. Hannibal groans as he finds his prostate, rubbing the spot that causes the other man to jerk his hips. Hannibal bites his lips to keep his voice from slipping out, but Will continues his assault. Giving little care if Hannibal moves his hips back, however, he does slip in a third finger. Making his index, middle, and ring finger into a triangle shape to move easier. Pushing deeper to curl his fingers into his prostate again, pressing harder to gain a reaction out of Hannibal.

“Ah!” Hannibal moans. His lips are red from his biting, Will smiles as he leans closer to kiss his lips gently. Hannibal melts at the affection, rocking his hips back to tempt Will further.

“Please, Will… more.” Hannibal groans, Will kisses up his jaw to his ear. Biting the shell of his ear playfully.

“The fruit of the Spirit is patience,” Will mutters into his ear. Hannibal doesn’t pout per se, but his frown threatens to make his bottom lip more kissable.

“There’s no need to be careful. I’ve prepared myself for you.” Hannibal retorts. Will presses against his prostate again, making his legs shake.

“I thought you didn’t want to do anything dirty in the kitchen, ‘the kitchen is sacred.’” Will empathizes with Hannibal’s accent near perfectly. Hannibal moves his hips forward in an attempt to remove some power away from Will’s fingers.

“That’s my kitchen. Your kitchen can be sanitized easily. I even took care to pose myself away from the dog food station.” Hannibal smirks. Will laughs and adjusts his arm to thwart Hannibal’s meager attempts at escaping. Hannibal shivers and adjusts his shoulders to flatten his back and have his chest pressed against the counter. 

“With patience, a ruler may be persuaded…” Will slowly takes his finger out of Hannibal's ass, digging into his pocket with his dry hand to get a condom out. Biting the side and ripping it open, moving behind Hannibal as he takes off his pants and underwear, kicking them off to the side. Rolling the condom down his penis and using his lube slicked hand to slick it, then positioning himself behind Hannibal. With a hand on Hannibal’s lower back, Will slowly pushes inside of him.

“...and a soft tongue will break a bone,” Once Will is halfway, he thrusts his entire length into Hannibal. Will slowly pulls out, then moves back in hard. Hannibal grunts, looking behind at Will. His cheeks are red with embarrassment, Will isn’t sure if it’s because of the verse or the motions of his thrusts. Regardless Will takes Hannibal’s hips with both hands and begins to start at a slow but hard pace. Hannibal lets out groans and gasps as Will fucks him, even pushing his hips back every other thrust to aid Will. Will smirks and reaches with his dry hand to snake his fingers up the back of Hannibal’s head and roughly grab his hair, jerking him. Hannibal whimpers at his roughness, arching against Will’s body as Will continues his thrusts. Will takes his other hand and wraps it around Hannibal’s stomach to keep him in place.

“You’re very vocal, Hannibal, yet haven’t expressed if you want me to speed up or not. Shall I speed up?” Will empathizes with his point by briefly speeding up his pace. Hannibal whimpers as he does, the speed causing Hannibal’s body to shake before stopping. Will slows down again, Hannibal gasping for breath.

“P… please!” Hannibal pleads. Will smirks as he stills while completely inside of Hannibal. Hannibal groans and tries to move, but Will keeps him steady.

“Please what?” Will taunts.

“Please fuck me faster.” Hannibal sobs. Will sees tears roll down Hannibal’s cheeks; he removes his hand from Hannibal’s hair and caresses his cheek.

“Good boy.” Will praises. Hannibal laughs before another sob breaches his lips as Will starts an accelerated pace. Hannibal is guided back against the counter for his comfort as Will fucks him. Their gasps and groans echoing in the kitchen; it’s only until Will’s hips start losing rhythm when Hannibal starts using his hand to jerk himself off.

“Are you close? Are you going to cum like a good boy?” Will pants. Hannibal tenses around his cock as Will talks dirty to him. Will laughs as he thrusts, happily placing both his hands on Hannibal’s hips to speed up both their orgasms.

“Let’s cum together,” Will suggests, letting Hannibal get the full brute force behind his thrusts. Will only stops when he bottoms out inside Hannibal, moaning loudly as he cums. Hannibal’s ass spasms around his cock as Hannibal reaches his orgasm. Will slowly pulls out, taking the rubber off and tossing it. Hannibal’s knees give out, the older man crouching against the cabinet with a startled gasp. 

“I got you,” Will assures, helping Hannibal stand back up. Will looks at Hannibal’s face; the ordinarily stoic man has red-rimmed eyes with tear stains down his cheek. Will leans up to kiss his tears, hugging him as he supports his weight.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? I don’t have too many of your fancy shampoos or conditioners, but you left some.” Will happily tells him. Hannibal smiles as he’s led into the bathroom. Will lets him lean against the counter as he turns on the shower, the sounds of his hand hitting the water and the creaking of the handles filling the room. It takes a while, but Will finally nods his head, content, and pulls his hand away.

“I’ll clean up the kitchen and manage dinner; I have your products on the shower basket.” Will leans over and kisses him. Hannibal smiles as Will hurries off, leaning over to close the door. Hannibal stays against the counter, and slowly, the smile slips off his face, his jaw resetting into its resting position. Hannibal rubs his face, removing the tear stains and pushing himself off the counter to get into the shower, taking off what little he still had on. Standing underneath the shower spray, reaching over to adjust it to his height before sighing.

As the water ran down his chest Hannibal’s mind wandered. In truth, Hannibal had planned for Will to become his true self, a test to see if Will could be his true equal. Of course, he had decided earlier that Will would be his partner. Yet, if Will had not expressed his explicit interest in Hannibal, Hannibal might’ve encouraged more therapy lessons. 

Hannibal looks up at the ceiling, frowning at the water stains. Hannibal closed his eyes and turned to wash his hair, massaging some shampoo into his scalp. Hannibal has a sudden realization after rinsing his hair and moving onto the conditioner portion of his shower. It seems he has to dispose of several items from Will’s fly fishing collection and freezer items he insisted on storing. 

Hannibal pauses and then thinks to himself there’s a possibility that he could persuade Will into moving in with him, which would keep him closer. It would remove most of the hassle of going back and forth to each other’s houses. They’ve been together long enough. It wouldn’t be a complete surprise to Will.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Will opens it up some and peaks his head in.

“Dinner is almost ready; I made my fish fancier than they normally are,” Will announces. Hannibal smiles, a pleasant buzz planting itself in his chest. Hannibal quickly rinsed his hair out before opening the shower curtain and looking out.

“I’ll be out soon, a towel, dear?” Hannibal laughs before giving himself the final rinse. Will shuffles around before the door closes again. When Hannibal turns off the water. A cold draft caught his nose as he stepped out. He grabs the towel and pulls it tight around himself. 

Hannibal stands in front of the mirror and wipes away the steam. Staring at himself through the mirror. Hannibal hears Will’s footsteps pace around the kitchen distantly. After Hannibal fiddles with his hair, he smiles. Hannibal turns and opens the door, stepping out. Will catches sight of him and gives him an easy smile.

“Your bag is on the bed.” Will happily tells him. Hannibal doesn’t thank him, continuing to smile as he makes his way over. Glaring at the broken chimney but is quick to get dressed in warm clothes. Hannibal glances over to the kitchen, seeing Will still moving around the kitchen. Hannibal walks over to his fly fishing equipment. He carefully removes a few of the contaminated completed flies from the collection. Concealing them in his palm as he strides over to his bag.

“Hannibal, do you have a preference for where I hang your suit?” Will comes in, holding the suit on an old wire hanger in his hand. Will looks over, and Hannibal slowly moves his palm behind him, balling it to hide the flies.

“No, you may place it wherever you see fit. I’ll take it to the dry cleaners regardless.” Hannibal elegantly deflects. Will grins and gets closer, leaning up to kiss Hannibal on the lips before carefully placing the suit over the chair by the fly fishing supplies. Will pauses, staring at his collection before looking back at Hannibal.

“I swear I had more of these… Did you do something with it?” Will asks. Hannibal doesn’t flinch as his grip tightens and a hook nicks his palm. Hannibal schools his expression into one of confusion.

“No. Last time I was here, it was just those.” Hannibal lies. Will is silent, then shrugs as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

“Could’ve sworn I finished a few more…” Will mutters as he walks past. Hannibal waits carefully before he goes into his pack and pulls out a thick pair of socks, taking them apart to place the lures in it. Carefully wrapping it back up and hiding it away in a pocket. Hannibal finally zips up his bag and puts it where the dogs couldn’t dig around it. He takes his palm and brings it up to his face, lapping up the blood. Hannibal brings his palm back to inspect it. It’s a small enough injury for Hannibal to explain away.

Hannibal now makes his way into the kitchen. Watching Will work his frying pan, eyes determined to not mess anything up. Hannibal walks closer, leaning against the counter and smiling. Will’s back flexed when he straightened out to stretch or when he moved the frying pan. Hannibal watches with interest, mapping out his muscles carefully.

“Dinner will be ready soon. I hope it’s to your taste.” Will looks over, his ears tinted red. Hannibal leans forward on his injured palm, flashing his canines at Will.

“I’m positively famished.” Hannibal teases as a response.

James and Will are on their way to the LeBeau household. The scene was a grizzly, bloody one, according to Barney. When James saw the pictures for the estimate, he nearly fainted, or that’s what Barney told Will. James didn’t talk to Will during the drive, opting to instead let his trusty CD create ambiance between them. Will didn’t breach the silence; James seemed troubled and didn’t want to talk, so why should Will force him? Driving up the long driveway and parking close to the front door and killing the engine. Silent as they both start to get ready, Will takes his box cutter from the van and stuffs it into his pocket if he needs it later. As Will is putting on his mask, James shuffles into the side of the truck to get paper towels and spray.

“How many bags?” Will breaks the silence. James hums, looking over at Will before shrugging.

“Maybe 5 to be safe. It’s all dried now, but we’re going to be removing a lot of wood. Plus, some leaked down because this house is so old. Looks like your barn house.” James snickers. Will smiles from underneath his mask and pulls the bags out of their container.

“It’s not that bad…” Will mutters. They open the door and head upstairs. James quickly took note of the blood that had leaked down to the floor below. James placed the spray bottle down and the towels on the counter.

“You start here; I’ll get the other set and start upstairs. We’re going to be sawing into the wood from what it looks like.” James sighs, leaving Will alone in the room. Will places the bags on the counter next to the supplies and separates at least one for him to use before getting to work. Will looks up as James makes a short pit stop before he stomps upstairs, holding onto the handrail for dear life.

Will returns his gaze back to the pool of blood he needs to tidy up. Spraying the area and watching the blood react to the solution. Will can hear James move around on the floorboards above. After he had finished his short cleaning endeavor, Will packs up and starts his walk upstairs. Looking around at each photo and where the wallpaper had begun to peel upwards. 

Standing on the landing, Will looks over to see James crouching near the wall and messes with a stain on the wall. Will walked forward as he watched James wipe the remaining blood off the wall and shove the towels into his trash bag. James stands up and proudly admires his cleaning.

“That’s all done with. We have to cut open the floor.” James sounded displeased, but his eyes kept smiling behind his goggles. Will walks over to start cleaning up the surface level blood away from the main pool of blood. James takes a screw gun and starts taking apart the floor area that’s been affected.

“Started demolition without me?” Will jokes. James laughs.

“Never, just got a head start.” 

Will pouts but returns to his current job. James glanced up quickly at Will before continuing to unscrew the floorboards.

“You know, it’s still weird to me that Hannibal didn’t see anything when all these symptoms started popping up.” James grunts as he pauses to remove the board. Will sighs, looking over at James.

“Hannibal thought it was stress. It’s not his fault.” Will defends. James looks over at Will. He doesn’t say anything as he looks away. Will grew uncomfortable with his silence.

“He’s a medical doctor and psychiatrist. You said the doctor who diagnosed you said Hannibal said something, right?” James pressed. Will slams the spray bottle onto the floor in anger, glaring at James. They both stand up to face each other. James holds onto the screw gun tightly.

“What? What are you insinuating? That Hannibal  _ lied _ to me for all these months?” Will raises his voice. Will gets closer with each word until he’s right in front of James. James had backed up until his legs his Beth LeBeau’s bed. James glared at Will, and Will scowls as a response to James’ own anger.

“Yes.”

Will blinks and takes a step back in surprise. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Why?” Is the only thing Will can manage to ask. James sighs and avoids touching his head with his gloves instead of crossing his arms and keeping his head hanging low.

“Ever since Minnesota, you haven’t been you. You changed so dramatically. Hannibal must’ve seen that you weren’t acting like the person you were when the two of you first met! He ignored it! He ignored  _ you _ !” James explains. James' voice strains against a lump in his throat. Swallowing harshly, James looks at Will in the eyes, giving Will a window into him.

“I… I don’t think I even know who you are anymore.” James' voice is strained harshly from the emotion grabbing at his throat. Will stares at him. Will struggles to find his voice, quietly wringing his hands together. After the sting of sadness didn’t weigh too heavily on him, Will found his voice.

“I don’t think I want you as my partner anymore,” Will admits. James gives a soft click of his tongue in displeasure.

“That makes two of us.” James states. James pushes past Will and goes downstairs. Will doesn’t turn around to watch him, only staring at his hands. When he finds the strength to move and pick up the spray bottle, James comes back inside.

“Let’s get this done with. The boss said until it’s done, we have to work together.” James adjusts his goggles before he takes the screw gun and continues his job. Will wipes the blood away, listening to the mechanical buzz of the tool. As the sound grates against his eardrums, Will closes his eyes, the pendulum swings slowly over his eyes.

When Will opens his eyes again, he’s back at the LeBeau household. When Will blinks, he’s suddenly seeing Beth peeking underneath the bed. Will pulls her underneath the bed until he’s on top of her. She’s pleading with him. Will knows her voice, but the face, he can’t see Beth. She’s crying now as he fidgets around his pockets to grab a knife, leaning forward, and tries to carve a Glasgow smile to peel back her mask easier. If he can just get the cover off...

Then a sucker punch to his jaw breaks his imagination. Will is thrown into the small table, knocking the lamp to the floor, the light bulb shattering upon impact. Will blinks to see that his box cutter is in his hands unsheathed. When Will looks up, he sees James has defensive wounds on his arms, and his face is littered with cuts. James is quick to move as far away from him when Will moves, pointing his screw gun at him.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Graham.” James pants. James quickly bolts past Will, his boots stomping downstairs until the front door slams open then shut, rattling the house. Will drops the box cutter on the ground, sitting up despite his back pulsing in pain. 

“Fuck.” Will curses. Pushing himself to his feet despite his aching back, staring at the work that still needs to be done. Will and James can’t finish it after what just happened. Will feels a buzz in his pocket, taking off his gloves as he starts to walk down the stairs, taking out his phone and looking at the message.

[James]

Barney is driving over with another truck now, so stay in the house.

Will promptly stops and sits down on the stairs, staring at the wall ahead. Something is wrong with him. He just had his first cycle of immunotherapy earlier in the week. Maybe it was a symptom he had to call in? No, he should go to Hannibal first. As soon as he types the first two letters of Hannibal’s name, he stops, pausing, then deleting it.

James expressed his concerns about Hannibal lying to Will. Will wonders if he asks it’s something Hannibal would blame the emotional state he was in. Will stares at his phone, his brows furrowing hard as he starts to think. Didn’t Hannibal have a good sense of smell? He mentioned at a dinner that he smelled his teacher’s stomach cancer. 

Will starts to type his name again, opening up the following conversation.

[Will] 

Did you really smell your teacher’s stomach cancer?

[Hannibal]

Were you let off on break?

[Will]

Yes.

The answer, please.

[Hannibal]

No, I didn’t. However, I can smell perfumes and what’s in them well enough.

Will turns his phone off as the front door opens. Heavy boots enter the house and stop at the bottom of the stairs, Barney looking up at Will.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Graham, but you have to get it together. You’re either with Matthew Brown or at the desk from now on.” Barney scolds. Will feels guilty that Barney has to deal with his partner getting hurt.

“I can’t—“

“Don’t. When you’re better, you’re apologizing.” Barney stops him. Will shuts up, standing up and walking down while starting to strip off his personal protective equipment. Barney steps back, wary of him but doesn’t say anything further. Once the gear is in a trash bag and thrown away, Barney escorts him to the truck and starts it up, driving away.

“Who’s going to finish the job?” Will asks, breaking the dead silence between them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Barney grumbled. Will swallows back a gulp and looks out the window. The ride is silent, Will watches the trees shake in the wind as they drive past. The clouds above are gathering together. They aren’t dark and heavy yet, but Will summarises that it’ll start raining within the hour. Will stops looking at the sky when Barney throws on the turn signal into the exit. Watching the road ahead as they reach their destination. Once they’re back at Post Mortem, Barney speaks up.

“Just go home, Graham.”

Will doesn’t argue. Getting out of the car as fast as he can, he makes his way inside the building to visit his work locker and remove old clothes. Will glances at James’ locker, staring at it for a while before slamming his locker shut, locking it before leaving. Making his way into the hallway, Will doesn’t stop by any of the offices. Only catching the sound of faint sobbing coming from Mr. Matthew's one. Will throws open the employee exit doors, stepping out to see Matthew Brown smoking by the exit railing.

“James looked cut up when he got back. Did something happen?” Matthew pressed. Will frowns, adjusting the clothes in his hand as he glances at his car. Judging if he could walk away from this conversation.

“I won’t tell anybody. James never could really handle you,” Matthew assures him. Will frowns, taking a defensive stance towards Matthew.

“James can handle me just fine.” Will counters. Matthew smiles, reaching out a hand and just barely touching Will’s injured cheek.

“I guess he’s to thank for that shiner. Maybe your therapist boyfriend has a remedy for that.” Matthew’s expression turns sour at the mention of Hannibal. Thoroughly weirded out by now, Will slowly turns away from him and walks away.

“He’s a psychiatrist!” Will decides to holler when he’s next to his car. Matthew gives him a large smile in return.

“See you next time Will!” 

Will gets into his car, turning it on and immediately making his drive to Hannibal’s home. Will needed to clear his head; that much was a given. Maybe he should just go home and try fly fishing in the river by his house. The warmer weather had just started to open the ice that coated the river previously. Maybe he could catch a few fish and show them off to Hannibal.

After reviewing his thoughts, Will finally decides to just head to Baltimore and take a breather. While not his home, Hannibal’s house relaxed him more than the open chimney Will had yet to fix it. Continuing his journey, chewing his lip when entering the Baltimore area. It was pure muscle memory when he had stopped then turned into Hannibal’s driveway. Swiftly parking and hurrying out of the car and knocking at the door. Hannibal opens the door, dressed in another three-piece suit. Will rushes forward and wraps his arms around his waist, burying his head into Hannibal’s chest.

Hannibal tenses on impact but is quick to reciprocate. Holding Will close, his breath hot against Will’s ear, Hannibal carefully maneuvers to close the door to his home. Will reluctantly pulls himself free, crouching to take off his boots and hang his coat.

“Did something happen?”

“Can you make me a drink? Non-alcoholic but strong.” Will deflects. Will takes the lead, walking towards the parlor room with Hannibal’s muted footsteps behind him. Will lays on his back with a leg propped up and another still on the floor. One arm over his abdomen and the other nearly touching the couch, staring up at the ceiling as Hannibal dutifully makes him a glass. A clink of a steel mixer against glass is the only thing to make Will sit up, allowing Hannibal a seat on the couch. 

After Hannibal is done, he walks over and hands Will his drink. Will takes a sip and cringes, it’s nonalcoholic, but the bitter flavor stings just the same. Hannibal places himself next to Will, his body turned towards him in clear interest, openness for Will to spill his troubles. Wil is only happy to indulge; there’s nothing he can hide anymore.

“I… slipped into my imagination at work,” Will confesses. “I ended up hurting James.”

Hannibal places a hand on his knee, rubbing his thumb into the side as a sign of comfort. “What was the scene?”

“Beth LeBeau. The killer didn’t mean to kill her; they couldn’t see her. I couldn’t see James. Their voices were loud, but their faces were blurred.” Will tilts his head back as he takes another drink from his glass. This time the burn is welcomed, taking his mind off James’ horrified face for a moment. 

“James had all these cuts to his face when I finally snapped out of it. I think… no, I had pounced on him, and he tried to turn his face away when I got too close with the box cutter.” His glass was now empty. His only option was to place it on the coffee table and sit back; he didn’t need another to distract himself. 

“Do you still have a job, Will?” Hannibal interrogates. Will sighs and runs his hand through his hair, pulling on his curls when he takes his hand away. Will looks back at Hannibal, looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know.” It’s a soft, vulnerable answer. His voice wavers as he trembles, breaking down as his walls crumble all at once. Will leans forward to lay his head on Hannibal’s shoulder, soft sobs bubbling from his throat. Hannibal takes the hand on his knee and brings it up to rub his back, his other hand wrapping around Will’s abdomen. 

Hannibal doesn’t say a word, keeping silent as Will cries. Hannibal’s mind wonders what the best course of action would be. Will out of a job could bring them closer, and the thought of Will welcoming him at home was very alluring. Just one more push…

“Let’s wait for them. If anything happens, you’re welcome to be my secretary.” Hannibal whispers. Will’s sobs are interrupted by a soft scoff. Will moves his body into Hannibal’s lap, hugging Hannibal and keeping his face hidden. Hannibal grins and turns his head to kiss the top of Will’s head, the other man sniffling as a response.

“Yeah, let’s wait.” Will agrees, coughing to get rid of the croak in his voice. Hannibal continues to rub his back, staring at the wall. This has reminded him of something significant. Hannibal needs to change the picture in the dining room. Hannibal had just recently come in possession of a beautiful copy of Ganymed from Peter Edward Stroehling. 

It’s the day after Will receives his scheduled immunotherapy, one out of the many he’ll require during his road to recovery. In the pamphlet, they had warned about the symptom of fatigue and that some patients experience it more than others. Will was part of the group stuck in bed from their tiredness, something Hannibal had graciously called the doctor to inform about. They hadn’t said what their subsequent action will be, but Hannibal doesn’t argue with them, deciding that since it’s entirely out of his field, he won’t say anything… 

Yet.

Currently, Will was curled in his bed, cuddled underneath a throw blanket and sheet. The blankets covering him up to his neck, giving him a nest-like appearance. Hannibal had made plans for tonight. It was rather unfortunate timing, really. Hannibal had meticulously planned the date, but no matter, Hannibal couldn’t just cancel them now! It would be very rude of him to do so.

As Hannibal moved around, Will fought to stay awake. Hannibal let out the dogs and tidied up his overnight bag on the dresser. When The dogs scratched at the door, he let them in then grabbed his coat. Will blinked slowly as Hannibal moved around his bedside, smoothing out his overcoat as he placed it on. Smiling when Hannibal stops and leans over to kiss his forehead.

“Where are you going? It’s so late…” Will mumbled. He’s struggling to stay awake, Hannibal notes. His eyes droop lower and the persistent squinting to focus on him gives Hannibal all he needs to see Will is losing this fight against himself. Hannibal pets his hair lovingly as some of the dogs shake themselves, making their collars jingle.

“I have a colleague that was persistent in meeting me tonight. I’ll be back when you wake up.” Hannibal promised. Kissing, Will again returns it briefly but pulls away to snuggle back into his pillow, this time on the lips. He sighs deeply as he relaxes into his bed, sleep heavy on his eyes. His eyes closed as the weight of his blankets grounded him in comfortable warmth.

Hannibal watches as he falls asleep, stepping back and pivoting. His eyes scanning the room before he checks his watch. The office closed at 5 PM; the sun is settling now, covering the grass in the front yard in an orange-purple hue. Hannibal leaves his bag on the dresser and secured his keys, walking outside and closing the door behind him. Locking the door with Will’s extra key, he’s borrowing for the evening. Walking to his car, climbing in and starting it up, glancing back at his black bag in the bag seat.

Dr. Sutcliffe had all but gushed about his schedule when Hannibal had called back to discuss Will’s diagnosis. All Hannibal had to do was mention that Will would be at home, and suddenly Donald had all but bared his desire to Hannibal. It was rather distasteful. He’d have to snuff out that flame of desire Donald has flaunted for too long. Hannibal grips the steering wheel tight as he backs out of the driveway and drives onto the road. Driving towards Baltimore, turning on the radio to play his Chopin CD. As the first notes of Nocturne Op. 9 No.2 played through his speakers, his hands relaxed as a pleasant smile took his lips.

Drip. Plop.

The sound of water hitting the floor touches Will’s ears. With his eyes now, he looks over to his dining room. A faint light is coming in from the kitchen. Slowly Will shifts out of bed, garbling onto the wall for support, his footsteps echoing through the house.

Drip. Plop. Plop.

When he’s in the kitchen doorway, he’s met with the back of the horned man again. His skin stretched across his bones as he works in the kitchen. Will slowly approaches him. The horned man sniffs the air and swivels his head around to look at him. Will squints his eyes to get a better look at the man, but his face is blurred. Closing his eyes briefly and rubbing on them, he opens his eyes again—a thick lump roots itself in his throat. 

The horned man is now standing over him, his jaw unhinged like a snake about to eat its prey. When Will’s instincts kick in, he’s quickly grabbed by the horned man. His long claws hold Will in place as his mouth hovers over Will’s head. Spit drops onto Will’s face and cheeks as the horned man gets closer and closer.

Then those neat fangs surround his neck like a collar. Will’s heart is pounding against his chest. There’s a stillness around them, almost as if someone has stopped time. Only the sounds of his heartbeat pounding in his ears disrupting the silence.

Finally, the horned man’s jaw clicks shut.

**Crunch** **_._ **

Will sits straight up in bed, clutching his head. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, his breathing unsteady. Sweat drips off his brow, Will quickly tries to wipe it away. The feeling of being slimy is the last thing he needs after that nightmare. Besides him, a long exhale makes their presence known. Looking over, Hannibal’s maroon eyes stare back at him. The sleep around his eyes was still fresh. Will dips his head, slicking his hair back to look at Hannibal better.

“Did I wake you?” Will whispers. Hannibal takes a deep inhale before exhaling while stretching his arm and wrapping it around Will’s waist, pulling himself closer. Nuzzling against his waist like a cat.

“It was time to wake up. Did you have a nightmare?” Hannibal rumbled. Will leans back, slowly laying down in bed. Staring up at the ceiling as the darkened room is gradually illuminated by the morning light.

“Yes. My head was eaten.” Will mumbles. Hannibal hums as a response, moving closer to kiss Will’s cheek. Will turns his head over and goes in for a kiss. Hannibal happily reciprocates, turning his head to the right to deepen it. As they kissed, Hannibal moved on top of him, bracing his legs and arms on either side of Will’s body. 

However, their moment is cut abruptly short by Will’s alarm. The sound caused Will to jump, making Hannibal laugh. Will moves his arm to grab at his phone, but Hannibal beats him to the punch, silencing the alarm. Then Hannibal relaxes on top of Will in a modified planking position, obviously worried about laying his total weight on Will.

“You can lay on me. You’ll be my personal weighted blanket.” Will happily states. Hannibal chuckles, kissing Will’s jaw slowly.

“Maybe another time. You’re off today, aren’t you?” Hannibal inquires, sitting up and placing himself on Will’s thighs. Letting Will see his toned chest and black, expensive boxers. Will takes both his hands, reaching up to push Hannibal’s pecs together. Hannibal looks immensely unamused by his actions.

“Yeah. However, it’s March 21, which means it’s drop-off day for the foster dogs.” Will sighs, continuing to play with Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal takes Will’s hands away from his chest, holding them instead.

“After spring just arrived? Hmm, I assume you’ll be getting ready then,” Hannibal says. Will gives a sad smile, squeezing his hands.

“You assume correctly. Will you make me breakfast? I don’t have anything fancy for your refined palette.” Will bats his eyelashes at Hannibal, the other man chuckles before leaning down and kissing him. Releasing his hands and maneuvering himself off of Will’s lap.

“I bought some breakfast items last night, don’t worry about me. Go get ready,” Hannibal softly commands. Will watches Hannibal leave the room, grabbing only a pair of pants hanging off his lure table chair. Will sighs, rubbing his hands over his face as he forced himself to get up.

Today is the day Will drops off his foster pups so they can go to their new homes. Will was thankful, but at the same time, he struggled with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to see their faces anymore. Stepping onto the floor and stumbling his way into the bathroom, turning on the light and assessing his appearance. 

Will was due for a nice, long shower. The hair sticking to his forehead was proof of that. After retrieving a towel to have after his bathing, proceeding to turn the hot and cold shower handles to a comfortable temperature. Feeling the water with his hand, satisfied with his adjustments. Stripping down and finally getting into the shower, allowing the water to wash over him and remove the lingering memories from last night.

Despite his treatment going well so far, it seems his nightmares weren’t going away soon. Pulling his head away from the water, leaning down to grab the fancy shampoo Hannibal had left in a readily accessible area. He puts a quarter-size amount into the palm of his hand and proceeds to lather up his hair. 

Sighing as he feels his fingers massage his scalp. Rinsing off and moving onto the soap and conditioner portion of his shower. After taking care of that, he takes a few rinses to get all the soap off.

As he finishes, he can faintly hear Hannibal mess with his pots and pans in the kitchen. Turning off the water and getting out quickly to escape the chill. Drying himself off the best he could before walking out with the towel wrapped around his waist. Will briefly checks on Hannibal, who has found a satisfactory pan to start cooking with and has moved to the fridge. Smiling as he goes to get dressed, buttoning up a nice flannel and pulling on old jeans with plain socks. When Will walks back into the kitchen after getting changed, still trying to at least brush his hair to the side. 

Hannibal sniffs the air and looks behind him, his eyes crinkle at the end as he smiles at Will’s appearance. Will puts the brush on the counter and walks over to the drawers by the backroom, trying to find the right junk drawer. Will can smell Hannibal cooking bacon, the telltale sizzle only confirming it.

“You’re leaving now? I let the dogs out while you were in the shower.” Hannibal informs dutifully. Will grunts as he finds the leashes from the correct drawer. Hannibal watches him without saying a word, the sound of the spatula touching the pan filling in for his silence. 

“I’ll be back soon. I won’t stay there long; it wouldn't be good to linger.” Will tells him, quickly being crowded around by dogs as soon as he steps into the front room. Will hooked the four dogs he needed and whistled to get their attention to follow.

“Stay safe!” Hannibal yells from the kitchen. Will smiles, turning his head back to reply.

“Keep the kids in check! No more broken mugs!” Will laughs. A sharp laugh from the kitchen gives Will the extra boost he needs to finally slip on a nice pair of boots and head outside. Unlocking the door and loading the dogs in. The four dogs were dispersed into his trunk and backseat, clipping them into the doggy seat belts he always had in his car. 

Once he’s finished, Will starts up the car, listening to the engine hum as the car heats up. Glancing back at the dogs once more before buckling up and shifting the car into reverse. Pulling out of the driveway and driving it towards the shelter. 

Will keeps glancing back nervously, not wanting them to throw up in the car as they pant and pace around their confined space. It’s a decently short trip to get to the animal shelter. Hopefully, they didn’t eat anything that doesn’t agree with car rides. Will makes his way around Wolf Trap before reaching his destination, turning on his blinker and slowing down to turn into the shelter parking lot.

Will turns in, finding a parking space that’s right in front of the shelter’s main door. As he parks, a short worker peeks out of the heavy door. Will makes his way around to the back and unloads Jack and Max from the trunk. Ellie and Harley patiently wait in the backseat, Harley looking over at him with an unimpressed look.

“Let me help you!” A voice calls out. Will looks to the side to see Melbourne making their way to his trunk to help Jack and Max. Melbourne has been working at the shelter ever since Will has moved to Wolf Trap. They weren’t close with each other, but somehow the dogs managed to bond them together. Will hands over the leashes to them, and Melbourne smiles in response.

“It’s been a while. I’m surprised you haven’t picked up more strays to adopt or foster,” They laugh, Will closes his trunk and makes his way to the backseat to get Harley and Ellie. Will has to carry Ellie, but Harley is nimble enough to slowly step out of the car when he prompts her. Melbourne peaks out from around the trunk, their glasses slipping down their nose.

“I’m surprised too,” Will replies back, his stomach twisting as he watches the worker from earlier come out to help bring the dogs in. Another worker named Juniper followed behind them. Melbourne watches him cautiously then gives him a soft smile.

“You’re allowed to say goodbye.” They whispered to him. Will nods stiffly as he hands over the leash then crouches down to pet the dogs. They all lap at his face as he struggled to hold back tears. 

Soon it’s time. Melbourne hands the leashes they held over to Juniper. His heart clenched as he watched his pack be led into the shelter. Melbourne watched him before walking over to him, hesitantly patting his arm.

“They’re going to good homes.” They assure him. Will nods, feeling the sting of tears at the corner of his eyes. Will doesn’t reply, knowing if he talks now, he’ll start sobbing. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and rubs his face to wipe away the phantom tears.

“Thanks, Melbourne,” Will whispers. Melbourne smiles at him, rubbing the back of their neck. They don’t exchange goodbyes, a simple nod before making their separate ways. Will hops back into his car and moves the vehicle closer to the exit, so he wouldn’t take up the suitable parking spaces, watching the parking lot as a nice car drives in. When the park parks, Will is surprised when he sees Mrs. Komeda and her husband step out to enter the shelter.

Hannibal made good on his promise, it seems. With a final shaky breath, he doesn’t idle any longer. Removing himself from the parking lot and back towards his home, without his dogs. The loneliness twisted in his gut like a snake wrapped around prey. His breathing became disrupted as the feeling grew bolder, the sting of hot tears running down his cheeks began. Finally, he had to pull over to the shoulder to park. 

Taking a deep breath and screaming at the top of his lungs, coughing when his throat ran dry. Trying to calm himself down with deep breaths just invited more tears, turning his screaming into loud sobs. Will laid his head on the top of the steering wheel, his body shaking as grief overtook him. Staying there until his weeping turned hoarse, sniffling to try and clear his nose brought no relief to him. 

Opening his center console and digging out some old McDonalds napkins to blow his nose into. Not wanting to put his dirty tissues on the seat, he finds a ripped bag and puts them all in there. Tying it off, happy that at least one nostril has cleared itself so he can breathe and not pant anymore. Will leans back in the seat, looking up to the ceiling and staring at it.

A chirp from his phone awakens him from his trance. Reaching over and looking at the message on it. Sighing in relief that it was only Hannibal’s worried texts instead of anything work-related.

[Hannibal]

Are you alright?

[Will]

I am now. 

Why?

[Hannibal] 

I just had a feeling you weren’t well. I made pancakes and breakfast steak. Will you be home soon?

[Will]

I will, thank you. 

I might cry again, however.

Will shut off his phone, turned his car into drive, checked the road for an all-clear, and then pulled into the lane. Making his way home to properly sulk the day away. Flipping on the blinker when he arrives at his home and turns into his driveway. Hannibal is quick to be out of the house with two cups of coffee and three dogs swirling around his feet when Will parks. Will climbs out of the car and meets Hannibal on the porch, taking a long sip of coffee. 

“God, I needed that,” Will mutters. Hannibal walks over and keeps the door open for Will to get inside. They slink their way into the kitchen and sit down at the dining table on opposing sides. Hannibal sips his coffee as he watches Will pick up his fork and plays around with his food.

“Are you not hungry?” Hannibal inquired. Will shakes his head in response, cutting off a piece to chew on.

“My stomach is all messed up from stress cramps,” Will admits. Taking another bite before putting his fork down and leaning back. Winston pads into the kitchen and makes his way to Will. Will smiles and rubs his hand behind his ear, affectionately sitting in between his legs and looking up at him. Hannibal smiles into his mug, tilting his head back to finish the coffee that revealed the rainbow heart on the bottom of it.

“Where’d you find that mug? I thought I lost it.” Will smiles. Hannibal places the cup down and inspects it with a raised eyebrow.

“Is this a gift?” Hannibal questions. Will laughs at his expression, leaning over to tap the rim of the cup.

“No, Alana got it for me at our first pride together. She has a matching one but with a pink, purple, and blue heart.” Will explains away, returning to his original spot as continuing to pet Winston. Hannibal’s face looked puzzled before the pieces clicked. His expression softened as he smiled.

“I see. Speaking of, Alana has recently given me tickets to Meadowlark Botanical Gardens. Apparently, it was something she had planned to surprise you with but last-minute surprises.” Hannibal tells Will, pulling out his phone to show Will the tickets.

“Looks good. Do you want to go before or after lunch?”

“We just had breakfast.”

“So before lunch, I take it.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes but nods. Will smirks and finishes at least one pancake before getting up. Winston weaving between his legs as he picks up the plate to put it on the counter. Hannibal gets out of his chair and makes his way to the living room as Will is cleaning up the kitchen. Scrubbing the plates before loading whatever was left in the sink and from the table into the dishwasher. Will getting a glass of water, hearing Hannibal click the bathroom door closed. The pipes hum as the water is turned on. Will walks out to the living room, a glass of water in hand, looking around. The seven beds remain around the heater; however, Buster is splayed across two of the beds instead of one. Shaking his head, Will walks back into the kitchen and picks up four dog bowls, and shuffles into his backroom to store them away. 

Coming back out to pick up the remaining three and putting them on the counter. Opening the fridge to get some cottage cheese, a bowl of shredded fish, two chicken eggs, and a quail egg. Then Will opens the freezer to get the chilled raspberries and a bag of spinach. Setting it all on the counter before going into his pantry and pulling out the chia seeds. Having his ingredients all laid out so he could begin preparing their meal. Immersing himself into making his dogs a good meal, blending the raspberries and spinach in his dog food blender. Having the kibble soak in warm water as he scoops out the appropriate amount of the ingredients into the bowls for each of his dogs.

As Will finishes, he glances up to see Hannibal is in a red Harrington jacket with a neat white button-up, with a red tie neatly around his throat. Paired with black slacks that stopped right above expensive brown leather boots. Hannibal is leaning against the kitchen entryway with Buster wagging his tail at his ankles. Will places the eggs in each bowl, smiling as he whistles to get his trio to attention. Underbite scurrying out of the living room as he stands by the food mats.

“Sit,” Will commands. Each dog sits as the food bowls are placed in front of them. Stepping back and admiring his dog's control.

“Go.” 

All at once, they pounce into their meal, eating ravenously. Will walks over to his workstation and starts cleaning up the ingredients. Hannibal’s heels click on the floor as he stands in front of it.

“The meals you make for your pups are better than what you store in your pantry.” Hannibal purrs, teasing Will. Will’s cheeks feel hot with embarrassment as he closes up the fridge. Giving Hannibal a side glare with no heat behind it.

“They’re my babies. I expect you to do the same.” Will washes his hands before rounding to the other side to stand beside Hannibal.

“Shall we go then?” He asks. The bowls behind him clinking as the dogs’ collars hit against the rim, signally they’re at the end of their meal. Hannibal glances over Will’s shoulder before nodding at the idea.

“No time like the present,” Hannibal says smoothly. Leaning over to kiss Will’s lips before leaving first to warm up the car. Will swiftly takes the empty bowls and puts them in the sink, walking out the front door with his keys. Taking the precaution to lock the door before meeting Hannibal in the car. Rubbing his hands together, Hannibal begins backing up and getting onto the main road, driving to their destination.

“Do you have the tickets?” Will asks. Looks at the road, watching the cars and scenery change around them.

“In my wallet,” Hannibal replies quickly. “How do you feel?”

“ _ Hannibal _ …” Will warns.

“Indulge me, please. You had to let go of your foster pups. I can’t imagine how that must feel. Especially with all the time, you spent with them.” Hannibal soothes. Will looks at him, leaning back in his seat to watch his face better.

“Feels like my heart was ripped out. My lungs and heart burned, my stomach twisted up badly.” Will confesses, wringing his hands together. Clasping his hands together finally and placing them in the center of his lap.

“I’m here,” Hannibal whispers. Will sniffs, smelling Hannibal’s cologne properly since getting into the car. It’s a mix of cinnamon and warm honey whiskey. His body relaxes at its scent, his stomach unwinding for the first time since he dropped off his dogs.

“Thank you,” Will whispers back, smiling at him. After their tender moment, Will turns his head around to watch the road again. His eye catches the Meadowlark Botanical Gardens main building as Hannibal slows down and places his turn into the parking lot. Maneuver the car around to a perfect parking spot. Putting the car in park with a grin on his lips, opening his door already, and stepping out. Will doesn’t waste any time following his lead, hopping out of the car and putting himself at Hannibal’s side.

Hannibal reaches over and takes Will’s hand, holding it gently. Will reciprocates, squeezing before relaxing. They walk in together, and Hannibal lets go to get his wallet, giving the tickets to the woman behind the desk. They chat with each other in a low voice while Will looks around, seeing only small groups of people, which was unusual, but he shrugged it off. Will doesn’t know enough about these gardens to argue how big a crowd for it should be. 

Hannibal snaps him out of his pondering to link their hands together again and lead them outside. The breeze caught the pair and wrapped them in the cool spring air. Will shivers as they walk down the paved path, looking around at the scenery. The flowers were just blooming to welcome spring; the sun shining on them highlighted the end of those cold winter months.

“It seems new beginnings are happening around us,” Hannibal says as his hand brushes against a bush gently. The leaves shake as he disturbs it, pulling his hand back to watch Will. Will looks beautiful in the spring sun, his skin seemingly made out of a thousand diamonds with his lush brown hair turning a milk chocolate color. Hannibal is simply memorized by the beauty of this man. 

Hannibal takes his eyes off Will to look around the gardens. He had requested this time slot for a reason; no one was around to bother them. Thoroughly proud of himself, they continue their journey. Occasionally stopping at plaques that explained the flowers or the history of said section of the garden. Soon they arrive at a long dock that ends with a gazebo in the middle of the lake.

_ Perfect,  _ Hannibal thinks.

“Let’s go in here. The gazebo looks beautiful.” Hannibal urged. 

“No arguments here.” Will hums. Hannibal smiles brightly and leads Will to the gazebo. Each creak of the wood adds to the ambiance. As they get closer to the middle of the lake, it becomes quieter and quieter. The occasional fish eating a bug off the water’s surface was one of the only ways the quiet was broken. Finally, they’re at the center of the gazebo, looking around at the water around them and the greenery surrounding the lake.

Will is by a railing, looking east while Hannibal remains at the center of the gazebo. Hannibal watches Will.

“Will.” Hannibal slowly gets down on one knee. Will holds up his index finger while he shakes his head.

“No,” Will says sternly.

“Will, do you believe a man could daily feel a stab of hunger for his lover and find nourishment in the very sight of him?” Hannibal reaches into his pocket. Will puts his arm down as he anticipates Hannibal’s next move.

“I don’t know. But no, it’s too early,” Will argues with him. 

“I think so. But would the lover see through the bars of his plight and ache for him?” Hannibal asks. Will watches Hannibal intently, his pupils expanding as he watches Hannibal. Hannibal takes a deep breath, taking in the scent of each flower, the smell of freshwater, and Will’s aftershave that leaves a burn in his nose. The sweet scent of the desire brushed underneath the burn to soothe it.

“Will Graham, will you…”

“Hannibal, stop. I’m not going to marry—“

“...move in with me?” Hannibal holds out a key with both hands, offering it to Will. Will jerks his head back, stunned by Hannibal’s proposal. Staring at him, then looking at his hands. Will’s hand flexes as he holds himself back from taking it.

“You want me to move in?” Will asks, skeptical. Hannibal nods.

“What about the dog hair?”

“More rigorous cleaning and no furniture rule.” 

Will bites the inside of his cheek. “What about—“

“Will. I'm willing to make whatever accommodations if it means you’ll stay in my life.” Hannibal declares. Will sighs and rubs his head, his foot tapping as he thinks. 

Hannibal feels his knee throb, the telltale sign that he should get up soon. However, Will still hasn’t made a decision. It would be rude to get up now. Hannibal waits, and just when he’s about to ask again, Will gives a hefty sigh.

“Yeah, I’ll move in with you.” Will reaches over and grabs the key from his hand. Leaning down a moment after to kiss Hannibal’s forehead.

“Don’t get on your knees again. You gave me a heart attack.” Will reaches out to help Hannibal up. Hannibal gladly takes the hands and stands up to his full height, his knee popping in relief.

“Apologies, I wanted to make a show of it.” Hannibal smiles to himself. Will laughs and hugs him, laying his head on his chest comfortably. Hannibal follows suit, tightening his hug to make Will grunt in protest.

“I assure you, I won’t get on my knees again. I’ll stay standing for our proposal.” Hannibal whispers into Will’s ear, kissing his ear lobe and making his way down his jawline. Will turns his head away to escape Hannibal’s wandering lips.

“You haven’t even lived with me for a month. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Will laughs. Their hands intertwine as they look out on the gazebo onto Lake Caroline. Will leans against Hannibal's shoulder, and Hannibal rests his head on Will’s head.

The landscape tints a light orange as the sun starts to set, the sky blooming with all the colors of a roaring fire. The crickets start chirping as the sun settles, and the few frogs who awoke from their winter nap sing a symphony to the outside. The pair stay linked as they decide to make their way towards the main office, onto their way to the next chapter of their relationship together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BACK BABY, it only took a month or two, lol. This chapter is much shorter than my previous entries, but I'm proud of myself :)
> 
> The good news is that the following chapters' outlines are completed, but that's half the battle. If I can post a chapter before Summer, it'll be ideal, but you never know!
> 
> Have a great day, everyone, and drink plenty of water!

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated!


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